the uniform fits like habit.
quiet mornings,
the car hums beneath a grey sky.
the roads are familiar,
so is the silence.

there’s something in the way we move—
discipline,
precision,
the sharpness of every step.
we know what’s expected,
and we meet it,
without pause.

but some days,
the world feels like it’s pressing in,
and i wonder what it would be like
to step outside the lines.
just for a moment.
just to breathe.

we laugh like we’re supposed to,
but sometimes the words feel too tight.
the hours slip by,
and i’m not sure where the day goes—
only that it keeps pulling me forward.

there are moments,
flickers of something softer,
when i let go,
if only for a second.
and then i pull myself back—
always back,
into the rhythm,
the expectation,
the silent promise.

maybe i’ll figure it out one day.
maybe not.
but for now,
i’m still here.
holding on,
waiting for the next moment
to let go again.