gift-wrapped

When did you last hold your own needle, stitch up your own heart? When was the last time you searched the cabinet for antiseptic, not poison? The last time you peeled back a band-aid wrapper, rather than your own skin?

When was the last time you let yourself be mesmerised by sea salt on rocks? The last time you lost yourself in a song and wrote sonnets to a morning mist?

You bathe in your brokenness, press down on your bruises, drink melancholy like wine.

When did you last look in the mirror and label her a masterpiece, rather than a disaster? When was the last time you held out a helping hand to her?

When did you last forgive yourself?

The last time you laughed it was a mere methodical upturn of your lips, a practiced gesture, a layer of stage make-up. The last time you laughed it hurt your broken ribs, brought blood to your lips that nobody saw but you could taste.

The last time you laughed in public, it made you cry in your car because reality had never felt quite so heavy as when you realised joy was an act but never a feeling.

Question: When was the last time you touched happiness?

Answer: When someone handed it to you. When someone assured you that you were worthy of it, gift wrapped it with ribbon and tucked it inside a handmade card.

The last time you held happiness was so long ago because you are still searching for the same kind of delivery. A card and a neatly tied bow and a pair of hands holding it out.

But happiness is everywhere. In the ocean's whisper, the stars' spotlights, the morning's mist and the cabinet's antiseptic.

Question: When will be the next time you laugh without it hurting?

Answer: Soon.

❀❀❀❀❀

Here's Paul's Challenge:

And here's his wonderful poem that this was based off: