You Are Already Home

The afternoon sun is bright, but it feels like a spotlight on everything you haven't finished yet. You are walking through the long middle of the day, convinced that peace is a wage you must earn by suffering enough first.

You think you need to bleed a little more before you are allowed to rest. But listen — the light does not wait for your exhaustion to arrive before it shines.

It is already here, in the dust and the noise of this hour. There is a peace that does not depend on your performance or your pain.

It was given before you took your first breath. You are not a worker trying to buy rest.

You are a child who is already home. The war is over, even if your hands are still shaking.