Zebra Seeking Spoons

Some days

the world feels far away—

like I’m watching it

through thick glass.

People move through their lives

with calendars, plans,

crowded rooms

and easy bodies.

Meanwhile

I measure my days in spoons,

in symptoms,

in how much strength

I can borrow from tomorrow.

The quiet stretches.

Friends drift

not out of cruelty,

but because they cannot see

the invisible gravity

holding me in place.

Chronic illness

is a strange kind of loneliness—

being here,

but not fully able to join.

A life paused

while the rest of the world

keeps running.

But still—

inside this quiet body

my heart keeps beating.

Still curious.

Still hopeful.

Still here.

A zebra in a field

that feels empty sometimes,

listening for other hoofbeats

in the distance.