I haven\'t felt the sun in years, but I have felt the rain.
I haven\'t been able to breathe, but I live.
And I haven\'t been able to walk, but run.
I haven\'t been able to eat, but snack.
And I haven\'t been able to sleep, but nap.
One day.
Two days.
Three days.
Nothing changed except that you were really gone.
Maybe that\'s what numbed me.
Maybe that\'s what has me racing.
Maybe I\'m so lost trying to understand how.
I haven\'t been able to grieve—why?
Maybe that\'s what happened to me.
But I cried, and I sobbed, and I slept for days.
And now, when I wake up, I feel the sun on my face,
and the rain I dance in.
I breathe in and out and live.
I eat and snack because who said I can\'t?
And I sleep more than I should.
But my smile is not gone,
and my eyes are bright.
Maybe I needed to mourn you again
so I could see the light,
not because I forgot you,
but because I finally remembered
how to live.