You opened your phone

You opened your phone

at the end of the week

and looked at the calendar.

White space. Blank.

Seven days with nothing written on them.

No appointments. No plans. No shape.

This should feel like freedom—

the hours stretched out like gifts.

Nothing you have to be.

Nowhere you have to go.

But the white space looked like drowning.

Like falling through days

that don't catch you.

You could fill it.

Could write something down

just to have something to see.

Just to have proof that you matter

to yourself.

You didn't.

You closed the phone

and looked at the empty week ahead

and felt nothing

hold it in place.