Wounds Don’t Know When to Go Home
I freeze in the corner of a room without a name Where silence builds its nest, far from the reach of light Only me, and the shadow I’ve become Alone with wounds that never fell Wounds that should’ve faded, but still bite like frost. I sit, arms wrapped around a body I barely recognize Like ruins aching to rise Staring into the flames that once devoured Remembering the gravel I swallowed whole Never once asking, “Why me?”
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I am a goalkeeper in a match rigged by fate More fragile than the post I guard Day by day, I drift further from myself Until sorrow becomes a punchline Forced into laughter I never meant. The weight never left my shoulders They were taught to be strong Since these tiny fingers first gripped the world Until now, when they must strike back at truth. And then I saw — My ocean of ache was not deeper than hers The fairy mother who swallowed storms in silence My sea of hope not as near As the dreams she buried gently, without soundThey say life is a choice But some wounds arrive uninvited Some griefs don’t knock — they break in. I ran, Chasing storms that never quieted Then stopped, Closing the day with a whisper of fatigue Begging my heart: Don’t break. Don’t mourn. Not tonight.
