Battles Within the Everyday

I start the morning with a battle no one sees but me. Staring down a

toothbrush like it's some kind of enemy. I know it's small,

I know it's simple, it should take a minute. But my chest

tightens at the thought, my body won't let me begin it.

Then the hairbrush waits its turn and shoes feel like a trap. And I wonder

how something so basic can collapse me like that. Work messages ping, school deadlines buzz,

the world moves on without me. And part of me wants to show up,

but another part shouts loudly, "Stay home, hide, you can breathe