I find myself happy
Though no delirious thing
No cracked grin
Manic and fading
No simple contentment
Though perhaps contentment has been so far away that I wouldn’t recognize it
I find joy in the simpleness of being
The hush of night
The sounds of the heater
The far to silent room
Because the truth is that my happy has a hole in it
And it’s only that space of lack
Which informs the rest
Beautifully written, Pelgris β€
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Thank you; π
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