I woke up to another dull morning,
the kind that feels like it sinks into your bones, mourning.
Nothing dramatic, just that quiet heaviness,
the kind that makes even breathing feel tired, breathless.
Brushing my teeth felt like climbing a hill,
the light in the bathroom too sharp, too cold, still.
Outside the window, the world looked washed out,
as if someone turned the saturation all the way down, no doubt.
And yet… something flickered.
A strange little glint I couldn’t trace, a spark reconsidered.
Gone in a second, like maybe my eyes lied,
but still enough to make me pause, unsatisfied.
It startled you, that tiny warmth,
as if someone whispered your name
from a place you’d forgotten
light could live in, a soft orange flame.
In the mirror, I expected the same worn-out version of myself,
the one I’ve been dragging through days, dust on a shelf.
But the reflection wasn’t as harsh as usual,
almost like I looked… okay, unusual.
Not perfect, not glowing.
Just… not awful, soft colours showing.
And somehow, that felt like a win,
a gentle pink rising beneath my skin.
I didn’t crawl back to bed like usual.
I made breakfast, something gradual.
Sat with my parents.
Let the soft yellows of morning light
brush against the blues under my eyes, turning shadows bright.
The colours in my cereal looked brighter today,
tiny childish rainbows against the gray, on display.
The kind of thing I usually ignore
but somehow couldn’t look away from anymore, like before.
I did the chores I’d been avoiding for weeks.
They didn’t fix everything,
they just didn’t feel impossible, no peaks.
The weight was there, but lighter,
like someone loosened its grip, a spark brighter.
Walking outside, I noticed the world
as if someone had turned the dial up one notch, unfurled.
I saw a dog trotting proudly down the street,
fur glowing, leash bright in the sunlight, red and sweet.
Kids ran across the park,
faces full of every colour I thought I’d forgotten, teal, gold, stark.
A couple laughed under a tree
soft blossoms unfolding above them, serenity.
the kind of pink that promises gentler days,
that seasons do change,
even inside people, in blooming ways.
Little moments kept happening,
strangers complimenting each other, softening.
someone laughing loudly,
a breeze that smelled like something new, cloud free.
Tiny, harmless pieces of joy
I didn’t expect to find, small colours in kind.
And for the first time in a long while,
it didn’t feel like the world was closing in, hostile.
It felt like maybe I could breathe here.
It felt like it was slowly colouring itself back in,
one soft shade at a time, lilac, rose, coral, clear.
I walked through all the quiet parts that used to drag me down,
yet somehow found small sparks of warmth in this familiar town.
Little colours stitching themselves into places cold and worn,
a gentle hint that even tired hearts can feel a day reborn.
And maybe, just maybe, this phase will fade,
like night learning how dawn is made, gold laid.
Believe in the glow you saw today:
the world wants you here
in more than gray, in every shade you’ll find your way.
theartofmadeline
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pixelskylines
snowghoul
baratheonpilled
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