Sometimes I'm tired of crying, so I laugh instead.

I laugh.

When I think about where I am, who I am – I laugh.

I laugh that kind of laugh that comes out like a bubbling brook from a deep, deep spring
 It starts out like a little trickle then bubbles up and out
That kind of laugh that is heavy, that kind that carries the memory of pain with it
The kind that tastes bittersweet in your heart but taste all the better for it
The kind of laughter that says, “I can’t believe I’m laughing right now but I just can’t help it.”
The type of laughter that comes out gently but strong, oh, so strong
The kind of laughing you do with your heart not your lungs
It rises and falls and leaves you with a knowing smile
A laughter that says, “Oh dear, how on earth did I get here?”
A laughter that whispers, “I remember the hurt.”
A laughter that whispers still, “Somehow it’s okay. I’m okay.”
A laughter that is more like a sigh than a laugh, really
It tells of a colored past – one that was both inside and outside the lines
It speaks of a muffled present
And hints at carefully, hopeful future
The kind of laughter that says, “I’m still alive. My momma was right: I won’t die from hard things.”
A laugh that breathes deeply
A laugh that comes with a few tears too

The kind of laugh that makes me shake my head in disbelief
A laugh that is the beginning of belief
It sets me free a little

The kind of laugh that makes me know that I am alive.