Permission

Dare I give myself

permission to be happy?

To look at the world

and forget its horrors

for a while

Do I put down

the lens of gloom

and see the world

with my own eyes?

Do I allow myself

to stop expecting

the other shoe to drop

and hope for the better?

Do I give permission

to unearth that part of me

that is buried deep

beneath callousness

sarcasm and scars

from all the trauma

I have endured?

Is it perhaps time

I give myself permission

to be happy

to be loved

to be enough

to be more than my wounds

to be hope

to simply be that

which is integral

to my existence:

me?

I give myself permission

to be me

a human being

that is imperfect

and a masterpiece.