and still

To be unhappy, in a world like this.

I am greeted every morning with light and a song; the flowers bloom. My mother calls me, she wants to know how I’m settling in- she says my dad misses me. My friends are so kind, telling me I matter. The dog across the street wags his tail when he sees me. Oranges, butterflies, music. The poetry in my phone describing emotions I couldn’t begin to understand. Words, touch, the smell of wild lavender on the walk home. Being able to sleep when I’m tired, to eat when I’m hungry and enjoy it, to shower when I’m cold. Me and my sister laugh over the phone, and I get to see her grow. I get to grow too.

And still. And still.