11:27pm on a Tuesday night

Cindion Huang '25

11:27pm on a Tuesday night,
Carrying the crushing weight 
           of adulthood,

I returned to the
unending cycle of chores
that consumes my every 
waking second and
long-lost childhood dreams.

For too long now I have 
been feeling nothing
but wistful regrets
            for not achieving more
for not being more;

and I have long been
feeling nothing 
but this numb, crushing weight 
of adulthood on my shoulders
suffocating every thought
        creating fake façades
and pulling my flesh apart, 
                
or simply nothing
            at all.

Like an oblivious, senseless robot 
I operate with apathy
while living for precision --

until a notification shattered me:

“Take care of yourself, dear. I have been looking through your baby photos… Call home when you miss us. We all miss and love you! –xo, Granny”

And just like that --
at 11:27pm on a Tuesday night --
the walls guarding my heart and
hopes and feelings that I built 
instantly crumble and fall apart.

My vision gradually blurs by 
streams of tears
as my fingers, trembling, typed:

“I love you too granny. 
Take care.”

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