The Anatomy of Dawn by Saleha Najeeb

The Anatomy of DawnSaleha NajeebDo not mistake the smile for light.It is merely how we hide the mourningof what never had a funeral.Grief, it does not arrive or leave,it resides,like a second pulse beneath the one we claim to feel.I have carried it, you knowthe quiet dissonance of appearing alivewhile the soul rehearses its own absence.There are days I speak,but every word drips through a sieve of silence,and you, perhaps,know this kind of breathing too.Yet, even stillness grows restless.Even darkness remembers the shape of dawn.So I begannot running,but returningto the small certainties I once abandoned,a breath that does not tremble,a thought that does not ache to end.Freedom did not come in thunder.It arrived like forgivenessa slow unburdening,a light learning the contours of my name again.And in that moment, I was not the same.I was the echo remade into a voice,the ashes remembering they were once flame.Now, when I speak,my words are not a sieve but a garden.The air hums with what I chose to reclaim.I have returnednot unscarred,but luminous from within the wounds.This, dear reader,is not survivalit is the anatomy of dawn.More from Saleha Najeeb ↓@gotta_slayyyy on InstagramHer book, Whispers Unveiled, is available now