I wish to write happily
about the time my boyfriend brought me flowers
and hand-wrote me notes
just to remind me how much he loved me
but I often find my pens drooling
Writing poems about the time he left
and how he broke
every promise he ever made to me instead
I remember wishing to speak
So loudly
“I’m happy”
So securely
So much so that the words might force it
For all the time I’ve spent writing in the dark
I never once thought I’d know
what it felt like to see again
One early morning
when the sun hit the pages just right
I caught a glimpse of what it might be like
to write happily
about the time I found my future
and stopped drowning in my past
I found my light
and I didn’t have to force it
Writing happily about coffee
and the mountains right in front of me
This place is a place I never thought I would be
And when I write it might not be about him
But but it’s about me
And how this place
makes me really, really happy