They say happiness is a fleeting thing,
a whisper lost in the wind—
a candle flickering, barely clinging,
too fragile to withstand the din.

But I have found it in the wreckage,
in the storm’s relentless tide,
in nights that howled with lonely echoes
where no light was left to guide.

I have drowned and fought for air,
too afraid to reach, to trust—
but hands were there, though I resisted,
pulling me from waves and dust.

It was never handed to me,
never wrapped in golden lace-

Never placed upon a silver spoon, 

But for happiness I made space
I had to carve it from the darkness,
learn to give myself its grace.

Not by erasing all the sorrow,
not by silencing the pain,
but by reaching toward the sunrise
when the sky was split with rain.

Happiness is not the absence
of the weight we’ve had to bear—
it’s the hand we choose to steady,
it’s the breath we choose for air.

Rose-colored hope has been my anchor,
silver linings kept me strong—
choosing joy was not a luxury,
but the only way to carry on.

And though the waves still crash around me,
though the storms still call my name,
I stand, unshaken, in my choosing—
and that choice will keep me safe.

Written by Skylar – (Bee) Realtras System