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I'm Jobless writing stories @ Guardian of Planet Mars
The Illness Without a Name
<p><br/></p><p><br/></p><p>Have you ever felt</p><p>like something inside you</p><p>shifted quietly in the night</p><p>not loud enough to wake the world,</p><p>but loud enough</p><p>to wake your soul?</p><p><br/></p><p>A strange heaviness arrives</p><p>without footsteps.</p><p><br/></p><p>Not sadness.</p><p>Not anger.</p><p>Not even grief.</p><p><br/></p><p>Just a silence</p><p>that settles in your chest</p><p>like a visitor</p><p>who refuses to explain</p><p>why they came.</p><p><br/></p><p>Your laughter feels borrowed.</p><p>Your thoughts move slower.</p><p>The world continues its noise</p><p>cars passing,</p><p>people talking,</p><p>dreams moving forward</p><p><br/></p><p>but you stand still</p><p>in a moment</p><p>you cannot name.</p><p><br/></p><p>You are not crying.</p><p>Yet something aches.</p><p><br/></p><p>You are not broken.</p><p>Yet something feels misplaced</p><p>like a word</p><p>forgotten in the middle</p><p>of a sentence.</p><p><br/></p><p>And so you withdraw</p><p>not out of hatred</p><p>for the world</p><p><br/></p><p>but because</p><p>you cannot explain</p><p>the storm</p><p>to people</p><p>who only see clear skies.</p><p><br/></p><p>You say little.</p><p>You sit quietly.</p><p>You stare at nothing</p><p>while inside you</p><p>a thousand questions</p><p>walk in circles.</p><p><br/></p><p>What is this feeling?</p><p>Where did it begin?</p><p>Why does my heart feel tired</p><p>when nothing has happened?</p><p><br/></p><p>It is a strange illness</p><p>this quiet unrest of the soul.</p><p><br/></p><p>No doctor can scan it.</p><p>No friend can easily see it.</p><p><br/></p><p>Yet it lingers</p><p>like fog</p><p>covering a morning</p><p>that was supposed</p><p>to be bright.</p><p><br/></p><p>So you begin a search</p><p><br/></p><p>not for answers</p><p>in loud places,</p><p><br/></p><p>but in quiet corners</p><p>of your own spirit.</p><p><br/></p><p>Maybe healing</p><p>is not always knowing</p><p>the sickness.</p><p><br/></p><p>Maybe sometimes</p><p>it begins</p><p><br/></p><p>with simply admitting</p><p><br/></p><p>that somewhere</p><p>deep within you</p><p><br/></p><p>something</p><p>is asking</p><p>to be understood. </p><p><br/></p>
The Illness Without a Name
By
Bigdan
Bigdan
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