The Weight and the Wonder

By Adewusi Aisha 

Some mornings, the alarm screams like a stranger,

and your bed feels like a harbor you can’t leave.

You hit snooze three times,

then four,

and finally roll into the day

with hair that refuses to obey

and thoughts that refuse to calm.

The streets are loud,

filled with people carrying invisible loads,

smiles that barely hide the cracks,

and footsteps that echo questions

no one has time to answer.

Work piles up like unfinished towers,

messages ping like tiny alarms in your chest,

and somewhere between coffee sips and sighs,

you wonder if anyone else

feels the way your bones do today

tired, hopeful, anxious, stubborn.

You trip over deadlines and expectations,

laugh at mistakes that sting,

and catch yourself staring at your phone

just to feel something, anything,

while the world spins faster than you can hold.

Yet, there are tiny rebellions

that make it worth it:

the friend who texts “I get you” at 2 a.m.,

the song that hits exactly when it should,

the moment you finally sit down

and breathe like you just remembered

you are allowed to.

Life isn’t just the chaos or the calm;

it’s the way the two dance together,

sometimes gracefully,

sometimes like a clumsy child learning to walk,

and you are both the dancer and the witness,

the question and the answer,

the heartbreak and the tiny laughter

that bubbles up

when you least expect it.

So yes, some days are heavy,

and some nights feel endless,

but somewhere in between,

in the small victories and imperfect moments,

you are living.

And that messy, loud, unplanned

is beautiful enough.