Lately, rest has felt like something I have to fight for. This piece is a reminder — for myself and anyone else who feels overwhelmed — that healing takes time, and softness is not weakness.
You do not need to explain
why your hands are tired,
or why your breath feels like
it carries the weight of silence.
Tonight, rest does not ask for permission.
It simply arrives,
like a quiet moon through the curtains,
gathering your sorrow
and humming lullabies
only your heart can hear.
You are not lazy for being ill.
You are not weak for needing space.
You are simply a garden in recovery—
growing, even in the shade.
So take this moment.
Let the world wait.
Let your body soften.
You have survived today,
and that is more than enough.
— gentle as a whisper, just for you
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