Morning rose before the sun
with warnings, noise, and heavy words.
Buses brushed past fragile space,
laughter cut where silence lived.
Hands reached when they should not,
eyes looked away when they should have stayed.
Small kindnesses came unevenly
one chocolate, one sweet, one soft voice.
My body spoke in aches and pain,
My heart kept translating the world.
I reported. I endured. I chose calm
even when calm was not offered.
And still
I walked myself home.
I cleaned the wounds.
I ate.
I rested.
This is not weakness.
This is a woman
still standing
after a day that tried very hard
to bend her.
🌙✨