reading room
How I Stayed Still
today, i couldn't get out of bed — the sheet cold as thought
no why came near
soft light stayed still
time kept still hands kep still me kept still
dreams made mud thoughts made knots mind made mist
if all moves by dumb cause then i move too
still i breathe still i think still i wait
i like quiet don't like crowds but that shifts
some things hurt and i stay some don't and i leave
i hate school but learn well at home where thought breathes freely
the world teaches speed and noise, asks me to act without awareness, to answer, not think, not move, not notice.
it fills the hours with useful motions, grades and smiles, proof and purpose — and leaves no room to look inside.
but i want to see clearly, to think slow, to stay awake, to live in rhythm, not reaction.
i go running though i ache i eat kindly because i care, my reasons repeat until they sound like instincts.
pleasure and reason pull different ways and still meet.
freedom, maybe, is rhythm we notice — habit mistaken for song.
Six Attempts at Freedom
six heartbeats, passing, like steady logic, a system that works without needing belief.
six breaths tremble, half will, half wind, obedience mistaken for calm.
six seconds linger where thought hovers before it begins again; i like that hesitation.
six shadows move across my wall, versions of me rehearsing mornings already lived.
six words whisper, you are still here now. the grammar shifts, but the meaning holds.
six lights fall through the curtain's edge, measuring the moment without caring for it. they rest on my hand, and i rest too.
the room stays still, the air hums faintly, six lights fade softly, still i breathe, still i think, still i wait, and the world, for all its noise, cannot touch this quiet.
— Lilith