I Didn’t Wish Big
They told me to whisper it
under a silver moon—
the kind that doesn't flinch
at broken voices.
So I did.
I was tired.
Not just in the body,
but in the bones,
in the places even silence can't reach.
I didn’t ask for riches.
Not love, not youth,
not even time.
I asked for something smaller—
to feel like myself
for a moment,
the self before the world
asked too much,
took too much,
left too little.
I wished for a breath
that didn’t carry weight,
a laugh
that wasn’t borrowed,
a day
that didn’t end with apology.
The stars didn’t answer.
But something shifted—
not loud, not bright—
just the quiet press
of my own hand
wrapped around a warm mug,
steam rising like forgiveness.
And I thought—
maybe this is what grace looks like:
not the world bending to your will,
but the world
pausing
just long enough
for you to breathe in it.
Copyright © Parth Zadey | Year Posted 2025
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