i was told by many that i don't really write when i'm happy.
i've always shrugged off the comments but now that,
i can confidently say i'm getting to a place where i'm mentally and physically happy,
it's true.
for words don't flow out as smoothly.
i want to cherish these moments, feeling the warm sun on my skin and smiling so much my cheeks hurt.
i want to hold these moments close and these moments are hard to describe in words other than bluntly saying them.
i woke up this morning and the sun shining through my window felt like a hug,
i didn't want to disintegrate into my sheets anymore.
i looked in the mirror,
i'm obviously breaking out but it doesn't bother me.
for i've even called my constellations cute and i've accepted them.
eating is slowly starting to feel okay,
very slowly but surely.
do you understand now how i can't put these small things into poems?
they are just what they are,
beautiful.
and if i don't create because i am this way,
then so be it.
for the first time in my recovery,
i want to live in the moment.