It waits in corners,
a whisper dressed in shadows,
calling me back
with promises of silence.
The thought presses sharp
against the edge of my mind,
like a blade I no longer hold
but still remember.
Some nights it hums
like a song I once knew by heart,
soft, dangerous,
asking me to sing along.
But my hands stay empty.
My skin stays whole.
I breathe through the ache
and let the music pass.
I will not dance
to that rhythm again.
Even if it circles me forever,
I keep walking forward.
Aug 20, 2025
Aug 20, 2025 at 10:34 AM UTC
It waits in corners,
a whisper dressed in shadows,
calling me back
with promises of silence.
The thought presses sharp
against the edge of my mind,
like a blade I no longer hold
but still remember.
Some nights it hums
like a song I once knew by heart,
soft, dangerous,
asking me to sing along.
But my hands stay empty.
My skin stays whole.
I breathe through the ache
and let the music pass.
I will not dance
to that rhythm again.
Even if it circles me forever,
I keep walking forward.
this poem is about how ive healed from self-harm but it still manages to creep into my head when ive had a bad day
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