She stands in the middle of the room

white dress wrapping her like winter air

like something meant to be beautiful

but not meant to be warm.

Everyone is smiling at her

They lift glasses

tell stories

dance as if the music is carrying them away

I can’t stop watching her.

Her hand is in his

but it’s not resting there

it’s caught

like a leaf caught in a stream that runs the wrong way

They walk together

but each step feels heavy

as if the floor is leading them somewhere

she doesn’t want to go.

I hear the music

the laughter

the clinking of plates

But I also hear the silence in her face.

It’s in the way she looks past people when they speak

in the way her shoulders stay stiff

when someone tries to make her laugh.

People think she’s shy

People think she’s just overwhelmed

But I know her

This isn’t shyness

This is something locked inside

and the key is nowhere in sight.

The night should feel short

should fly like a bird in summer

But it’s stretching slow

cold, endless

I wonder if she feels it too

the hours growing heavier

each one pressing harder than the last.

And though I stand here

close enough to see the truth in her eyes

I can’t pull her away

This is her night

and somehow

it is the longest night of all

Will tomorrow bring her light?

Or will her heart stay locked in night?

Will she find a dawn that’s new

or forever belong to someone else

a love not truly hers to choose

a path she walks, but can’t refuse?