The ceiling is a screen
and her mind won't stop
projecting.
At 2 AM, every small
mistake from the day
replays in high
definition. The future
that hasn't happened yet
but already feels ruined.
She knows this loop.
She's been here before —
the spiral that starts
with one small worry and
ends with her entire life
under indictment. The
pillows know her tossing.
The silence knows her
racing heart.
But then something
shifts. Not a solution,
not an answer — just a
crack in the narrative.
A small voice that says:
this story you're telling yourself — it's just a story.
She doesn't believe it
yet. But she hears it.
And for tonight, hearing
it is enough.