Little less sad

I paint my nails in colors vivid and vibrant,
They make me look less sad- the painted nails.
I go out and party with my friends,
It makes me tired, but tired is better than sad.
I laugh alot- clear and loud,
Enough for everyone to hear,
It makes me look happy,
And happy is a lot better than sad.
I bring in the avocados and all the non comfort food,
Cooking requires work and time,
And cooking is is still better than sad.
I seek questions and tangle myself in 'whys',
Knowing things, well knowledge is better than sad,
Do you know human skin sheds itself after every two weeks,
Knowing this is comforting.
Knowing that every touch  - unwanted (or wanted)  has been withered away,
That it isn't only me who's abandoned of love or freckles,
Knowledge is comforting,
And comfort is a lot better than sad.
But do you know not all the cells renew itself or wither away,
So in a way the sincerest kiss is still wrangled up in my wrinkles,
It makes me feel a little less alone,
And a little less alone is a little less sad.
I visit the graveyard- it's dark and dull,
It makes me compassionate,
A little grateful to be alive,
And to be grateful is better than sad.
I think about the conventions of the society,
How it wraps everyone in anxiety,
And seeing others sad makes me feel a little less alone,
And a little less alone is a little less sad.
And every night as I try to sleep over this sadness,
I'm awaken by my conscience,
Driven to my tombstone of shame,
How I've practically made notes on being a little less sad,
But now that I've realised, have you?
To be a little less sad is to be the saddest.