happiness -

i find it impossible to write about.

i can write you novels of tear-stained,
skin pulled apart,
slapped, wretched,
numbness-filled prose
complete with vivid descriptions of my madness and my sad.

but describing happiness?
that's like trying to describe your favorite song.
or the feeling you get when you just wake up and the pressures of the world haven't reached you yet.
maybe that's what happiness is.
that moment.
or maybe it's the moment you told me you loved me.
or maybe it was two days later when i finally realized it.

maybe it's listening to Jack White on full volume on the warmest day of winter on the front porch smoking a cigarette and yelling out every word I know.
and every word i don't.