Grayed Out
Some days the world feels two sizes too big
Yet I walk through it like a ghost in my own skin
Nothing dramatic
Nothing loud
An unexpected heaviness settles into my bones
The kind of ache that doesn’t shout
It just whispers getting up will be a battle
Even the small things feel sharp
Light hits wrong no matter where I stand
People ask how I am doing
I give them the version they can hold
The one that won’t make them shift their eyes
The one not prompting a helpful response
Inside it is quieter than it should be
Darker than I ever admit out loud
A place where I try to keep moving
When every step feels like quicksand
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