This Too Shall Pass

It’s warm.

Unusually warm.

I’ve had to open the windows,

hoping the fresh air

might make it easier to breathe.

Now the breeze has come in,

and somehow,

I’m cold.

I’ve pulled the duvet

a little higher,

tucking myself underneath,

as though fabric

could quiet

what’s happening inside me.

I exhale.

There’s so much

I want to say.

But I can’t.

I miss the days

when I could simply write,

spill everything onto the page,

and figure it all out later.

Now I can’t.

So I’m here,

tossing,

turning,

trying to make sense of it all.

Except…

I can’t.

I let out another breath,

hoping

the tightness in my chest

will leave with it.

It feels

as though something

is sitting there.

Heavy.

Unmoving.

An ache

I cannot explain.

And somehow,

I cannot shake it.

I cannot say it.

So I carry it.

Quietly.

I act.

I pretend.

I smile.

I laugh.

I socialize.

I answer questions

like nothing is wrong.

But my chest knows.

My heart knows.

Something hurts.

Something aches.

And I cannot

give it words.

So I breathe.

I keep walking.

I keep showing up.

Not because I’m okay.

But because

I have no choice.

Some days,

I feel free.

Other days,

I feel trapped

inside a story

I cannot tell.

So I become

a butterfly.

Beautiful enough

that no one notices

the storm

beneath the wings.

I’ve lived

through pain before.

Every season

that promised

to break me

eventually

let me go.

So I borrow hope

from yesterday.

I whisper,

“This too shall pass.”

Until the day

those words

become true again.

And until then,

I exhale. 

With Love,

Ayo

⸻

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