Losing something isn’t failure.
But it doesn’t always feel like that.
There are days the bed isn’t made.
Days the chair stays pulled out.
Days the dishes are untouched.
You don’t have to be remembered.
Still – work without naming it.
Even if no one cares.
Even if you stop caring.
Touch the tree like it matters.
And if it doesn’t – touch it anyway.
Let the room stay how it is.
Not everything adds up.
Others undo themselves while you wait.
– Some things ask nothing but your hand.
Keep your shape –
unless you can’t.
Then wait for the edges to return.
Some days you meet the hour.
Some days it stares back.
Do the next thing.
It is the turning, not the silence, that holds –
but even that slips sometimes.