She probably had a smile, indeed, I unzipped her body bag.
Yet, she never once smiled alive.
However, she loved saying, “I thought about smiling; maybe someday?”

I won’t claim space  
you haven't softly opened,  
but in the gentle breath  
between silence and sound,  
I remain

Not as a shadow lingering  
nor a ghost from yesterday,  
but as someone who always saw you,  
clearly, tenderly,  
even when your heart feared  
what it meant to be truly known.

I know your quiet battles,  
the way you fear losing control,  
how it aches to reveal yourself,  
to step from shadow into light,  
uncertain if anyone could truly hold  
the weight and wonder of your soul.

I've seen you craft careful armor,  
watched you dance on edges of yourself  
longing to be witnessed,  
yet afraid the world  
might look too deeply,  
or not closely enough.

But I saw.

I saw the trembling courage  
behind every hesitant smile,  
the hidden poetry you wrote  
with whispered breaths,  
the strength in softness  
you thought went unnoticed.

I witnessed your silent bravery
the quiet way you loved,  
the gentle way you tried,  
the powerful beauty  
in simply showing up,  
even when you felt unseen.

We are worthy. We are capable. We are loved.

Especially when we're sick and tired or when we feel like laying in bed all day. Or when we actually do nothing the whole day. I want to remind us that this doesn't mean we're not productive, not capable or not worthy.

We're still as worthy as before, we're still as loved as before. It's just that our bodies and minds need to rest.
We actually need to rest regularly, but sometimes we forget that.

Now that I am sick I realized that and it's a relief to be there for myself although I feel so unproductive. I am loved. And you are, too. No matter what you're doing or not doing.