Small Mercies

My bank account hit that quiet number

that makes you stop breathing for a second.

Not zero,

but close enough to taste it.

﹁﹂

So I started counting different things.

Not in a motivational way

more like a scavenger hunt

to keep my brain from chewing itself.

﹁﹂

One: the bus driver waited

When he saw me running,

bag thumping my hip,

dignity trailing behind.

﹁﹂

Two: the corner shop guy

threw in an extra lemon

because “it’s gonna rain.”

He said it like a gift.

﹁﹂

Three: hot water.

God, hot water.

I let it run over my hands

until they looked less like work

and more like hands again.

﹁﹂

Four: a text from my friend

no advice,

just a meme and a “u alive?”

and I laughed,

which felt illegal.

﹁﹂

Five: the sky at 6:12 p.m.

turning peach for no reason,

as if beauty doesn’t check your balance.

﹁﹂

My hands were empty, yeah,

But somehow I held these small mercies

like coins warmed in a pocket—

not enough to buy a new life,

but enough

to make this one

a little less cruel.