It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.
But happiness floats.
It doesn’t need you to hold it down.
It doesn’t need anything.
I don’t often appreciate poetry but have been trying to give it a shot regardless. I quite liked this poem – the feeling of not knowing what to do with your happiness is interesting, and I like how she wraps it up at the end.