I didn’t break down today.
I didn’t let anyone down.
I was a little bit more of myself than I was yesterday.
I made it through the day alone,
but the girl next to me called her mother
to tell her what she ate for lunch.

Her laughter spilled into the air,
a melody I didn’t know I missed,
a warmth I could never quite touch.
I traced the edges of my silence,
wondering if it had always been this loud.
The coffee tasted bitter but I drank it anyway.
A snowflake landed on the windowsill,
I waited for it to be blown away,
but it stayed,
and I stayed.

I didn’t call anyone today.
I put a pop song deep into my ears,
silencing out the words that I never heard.
I folded my loneliness
into a paper crane
and left in at the cafe,
its fragile shape, a quiet triumph.
The weight is still there
but my feet stayed planted.
Tomorrow, maybe,
I’ll build a bridge
out of these small victories,
and walk a little closer
to the sound of my own voice
telling someone what I ate for lunch.