Human as Things

This poem is about survival after disruption.

I am not a book.

I am a person whose life stopped in certain places.

There are periods of my life where nothing progressed.

From the outside, it looked like stagnation.

From the inside, it was survival.

People saw inactivity and assumed failure.

They saw silence and assumed emptiness.

They saw delay and assumed weakness.

They did not understand that I paused because I needed to.

Some experiences overwhelmed me.

Some relationships ended abruptly.

Some plans collapsed without warning.

When that happened, I did not continue smoothly.

I stopped.

I withdrew.

I reduced my expectations.

I focused on getting through the day.

Others expected momentum.

They expected visible achievement.

They expected consistent productivity.

I could not give that.

I have moved between countries.

I have rebuilt routines more than once.

I have started over in environments that did not know my history.

Each time required adjustment.

Each time required energy I did not always have.

There are parts of my story I do not share easily.

Not because they are dramatic.

But because they are unfinished.

Sometimes I stop talking about certain years.

Sometimes I leave details out.

Sometimes I say, “It’s fine,” when the explanation would be too long.

That is not deception.

It is protection.

Pausing is not the same as quitting.

Silence is not the same as absence.

Delay is not the same as failure.

This poem is about the right to slow down without being labeled incomplete.

I am not behind.

I am not broken.

I am not lacking.

There are chapters of my life that are still developing.

That is normal.

I am still here.

I am still working through what happened.

I am still deciding what comes next.

This is not a metaphor.

It is a statement:

Some of us paused in order to survive.