The Dawn Did Not Wait For You

The sun is up, but the room is still holding the shape of last night's silence. You are practicing a voice that sounds like home, rehearsing a cheerfulness that feels like a costume you put on before the coffee is even brewed.

It is exhausting to perform light when you feel so heavy. But notice — the dawn did not wait for you to be ready.

It arrived anyway. The light is not asking you to be happy right now.

It is just asking you to be here. You do not have to generate the warmth you are trying to sound like.

The rising sun is already in the room, touching the floor, touching your hands, touching the part of you that is too tired to pretend. The performance is for them.

The stillness is for you. You made it through the night; that is enough.