Two Weeks Later

The days dont arrive anymore
they blur
melt into each other like cheap candle wax
forgotten on a windowsill

You stop counting

Morning is just a lighter shade of night
and night is where nothing asks anything of you
so you stay there
curled into fabric that smells like
every version of you youve been avoiding

Your hair knots into quiet protests
Your body forgets what standing feels like
Time passes anyway
rude like that
dragging you forward
even when you refuse to move

Somewhere
there was a version of you
who had plans
Who answered messages
Who laughed without checking if it sounded real

You cant find them now

Instead
theres this heavy stillness
this dull padded silence
where even your thoughts
dont bother finishing themselves

You dont cry
that would mean something sharp enough to feel
This is softer
Worse

A numb kind of sinking
where you watch yourself disappear
and dont even reach out

I will get up tomorrow
you say
like a ritual
like a promise you already know
how to break

And the mirror
when you finally look
doesnt accuse you

It just reflects
someone you dont quite recognize
but also dont have the energy
to become again

So you lie back down

Because moving feels impossible
and staying feels unbearable
and somehow
you keep choosing both

But just
the fact that youre still here
to notice the emptiness at all...

Means the world