By Yuna

When The Light Feels Heavy

The light seeps in, soft and uncertain,

like it knows the weight I carry.

The world stirs, but I don’t move,

still caught in the quiet where your name echoes.

I thought love would outlast the dark,

that it would hold me steady at dawn.

But daybreak doesn’t heal—

it only shows the cracks,

the spaces you left behind.

The sky blushes faintly with color,


but it feels hollow,


like it’s painting over what’s broken.


I wonder if you see it too,


if the morning finds you


and reminds you of me.

They say the sun brings new beginnings,


but all it brings me is longing,


the kind that sits heavy in my chest,


the kind that the light can’t touch.

I watch the day unfold without you,


the world moving as if nothing has changed.


But for me, it has—


every sunrise feels colder,


every dawn pulls me further from your warmth.

And still, I sit here,


waiting for the morning


where the light doesn’t ache,


where love feels like it’s enough


to carry me through.