1.8

36 9 4

I HAVE LEARNT THAT I DO NOT NEED TO BE SAD AND LONELY TO BE POETIC.THAT ART DOESN'T NECESSARILY HAVE TO BE BORN OUT OF SORROW . I CAN WRITE ABOUT PRETTY SKIES AND THE WAY MY LIPS UPTURN WHEN SUNLIGHT CARESSES MY SKIN,THE LAPPING WAVES THAT TICKLE MY TOES WHILE I BREATHE IN THE SALTY AIR . I CAN WRITE ABOUT THE STRONG WINDS THAT WHIP MY HAIR OUT OF MY FACE AND MAKE ME SMILE . I WILL WRITE ABOUT HOW YOUR EYES LIGHT UP WHEN I PLAY YOUR FAVORITE SONG AND THE SOUND OF YOUR LAUGHTER FILLING THE ROOM WHEN I SAY SOMETHING FUNNY ; THE WAY YOU MURMUR WHEN YOU KNOW THAT I'M RIGHT , I WILL WRITE ABOUT HOW PEACEFUL YOU LOOK WHEN YOU SLEEP AND THE WAY YOUR CHEST RISES AND FALLS, A REASSURANCE.

LIFE HAS OFFERED ME HAPPINESS IN A CUP FILLED TO THE BRIM , IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN OVERFLOWING. I NEVER ACCEPTED IT , TURNING A BLIND EYE BY BEING CAUGHT UP IN CONVINCING MYSELF THAT I AM AND DESERVE TO BE ALONE , DEPRESSED AND INCAPABLE.MY BODY ACHES AND BEGS FOR ME TO SMILE AND I WILL NO LONGER SUPPRESS MY TRUE  FEELINGS. MY MIND AND BODY HAVE SUFFERED ENOUGH . THIS IS UNFAMILIAR TERRITORY BUT I AM PREPARED TO EMBRACE IT .

HONEY BONESWhere stories live. Discover now