Adewusi Aisha
Some of us smile
with storms folded beneath our tongues.
We answer,
“I’m fine,”
because explaining
feels heavier than carrying.
The world celebrates
the loud victories,
but forgets
the quiet ones
the mornings
you got out of bed
when your heart wanted
to stay hidden.
No one applauds
the battles
that leave no bruises.
No one sees
the dreams
stitched together
after disappointment
pulled them apart.
Still,
we keep going.
Not because
we are fearless,
but because
hope has a strange habit
of returning,
even to the people
who swore
they had none left.
And maybe
that is what makes us human
not that we never break,
but that,
piece by piece,
we learn
how to become
our own sunrise.
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