“…But My Body Hasn’t Caught Up”

Even with the bed finally in place — carefully carried, assembled, and dressed with care — I found myself sleeping on the floor.

Because trauma doesn’t follow logic. My body hasn’t yet realised we have a roof over our head now. It still expects the cold, the noise, the threat. It still remembers the car seats, the group shelters, the street. Safety takes time to settle into our bones.

But each night, I light a candle.
Each morning, I make a cup of tea.
Each curtain I hang is a message to myself: We are rebuilding. We are safe. We are home.