zouk

LAISSE MOI

Silent Revolution - Alternative Pop Rock Music

Juniper Breath

Today again, the same white ceiling.
Rehabilitation hasn’t changed.
Or maybe it has—but to me, it still feels like nothing has changed.

In the mirror, I wear a pasted-on smile,
but my legs refuse to move forward.

“One more step.”
“Don’t push yourself too hard.”

Every time I hear those words,
I scream inside:
“Then when will I finally be able to move?”

---

That afternoon,
he came again.
In his hands—just like before—was a new Pair Test.

“This one looked kind of fun… Want to do it together?”

He said it with the same smile as always.
But this time, it hurt.

I haven’t changed.
He keeps moving forward.
And I’m still stuck here.

“…I can’t. Not something like that.”

My voice trembled.
His hand froze.

“Huh?”

“My rehab isn’t going anywhere.
Every day, the same thing over and over…
It just hurts…”

Before I knew it, tears were sliding down my cheeks.
I couldn’t stop sobbing.
I didn’t want him to see me like this.

“I’m just… not enough anymore…”

As my voice cracked,
the test paper slipped from his hand and floated gently to the floor.

Rustle.
It sounded like a dream falling apart.

---

☁️ The ‘Sensitive One’ Trembling in Silence

He didn’t say anything.
Just stood there, stunned, unable to move.

Even as I cried,
I thought, “He expected something again…”

I didn’t want him to notice.
My sensitivity, my fragility, the pain in my legs—
I wanted all of it to be just “background I’d overcome.”

But right now, it was simply the reality of being stuck.

---

“I was happy when you brought the test with a smile.
But it hurt that I couldn’t catch up to that smile.
I was scared to drag you into my weakness.
And yet—I couldn’t say ‘I can’t do this alone.’”

Even as I broke down,
a small voice inside me trembled.

“Please notice.
What I really want to say is—help me.”

Maybe that was the voice of the ‘Sensitive One’ within me.

---

“I wanted to be strong, but I broke.
I wanted to smile, but I cried.
And still, a faint voice inside me screamed—
‘Even if I fall apart, I want to connect through what’s real.’”

Ton silence

Vitaa

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