A bed can hold what you did not put down.
You did not need to finish releasing the day before you were allowed to rest here.
Some things are still with you.
In the shoulders,
In the chest,
In the jaw,
In the thoughts that kept moving after everything got quiet.
Let them be here without asking them to leave all at once.
You are not doing this wrong,
Because some part of the day is still resting on you.
The body does not always set things down the moment the room grows dark.
Sometimes it carries.
Sometimes it protects.
Sometimes it stays half awake a little longer.
That is okay.
A bed can hold the weight in the back,
The ache behind the eyes,
The thoughts that never found a clean ending,
The feelings that did not become words.
Let the mattress receive some of what the body kept.
Let the pillow receive some of what the mind kept.
Let the darkness receive some of what remained unfinished.
Nothing here needs to be solved before softness begins.
Let support instill support before everything softens,
That you are still allowed to be held,
Before the system fully trusts the dark.
A little more weight downward,
A little less effort upward,
A little more being held,
A little less holding yourself.
A bed can hold what you did not put down.
Tonight,
You did not have to carry it in the same way.