𝓝𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓟𝓸𝓮𝓽𝓻𝔂

𝐷𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝐵𝑢𝑏𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑠

In the early morning sunlight, I open my eyes to a brand new day.

An empty canvas for me to paint my dreams on, making them a colorful reality.

Getting out of bed is easier than it has been in a long while, I smile wide to myself for no reason in particular.

Bright sun rays filter in through the glass windows, making my bathroom appear to be the home of a dozen little fairies.

The water runs, I like to close my eyes and imagine I'm standing in front of a waterfall, surrounded by trees and green grass. A place where I can really breathe.

Then the bathtub is full, and the water is hot, yet I sink right in.

Such a simple little tub, but it melts all my worries away. I find my own little handful of heaven.

I lather up my hands with dove, and I try to blow bubbles in between my fingers. Sometimes it works, the bubble grows bigger and bigger, and it wobbles around like jello until finally, it pops.

And sometimes it doesn't work, the soapy film sitting between my fingers never gets the chance to grow big and I sit there in the lukewarm water wondering what it could've been.

I finally stop when the bath is a pearlescent white from all of the soap that spilled into the water.

But that's merely just a stroke of my paintbrush, I have the rest of my canvas to work on, the rest of my day to cherish.