i dig the knife in expecting answerslike pain might speak a language
my thoughts never could
like maybe beneath the skinthere’s something clearer,something honestsomething that explainswhy everything feels so heavy
but the silence doesn’t breakit just echoes louder
the sharp sting becomes a question markdrawn in trembling linesacross something that never deserved it
and for a momentthere is only sensationloud, immediate, undeniabledrowning out the quiet chaos inside
but it doesn’t last
the noise comes backthe weight settles again
nothing solved, nothing spoken
just another markwhere a question once lived
and i realizepain doesn’t translateit doesn’t explainit only repeats
and all i’m left holdingis not clarity, not relief
but instead i’m faced with the harsh red of reality