You named the shadow I didn’t know
was curled under my ribs—
a black thing, coiled and strangling.
I carried you like a lantern,
a small, impossible sun
that refused to burn me
until it did.
Warm in the coldest corners,
hidden from sight.
You remain as a scar,
covered by clothing, puckered—
a story untold, unasked,
folded so tight
it fits inside.
Jan 6
Jan 6, 2026 at 9:08 PM UTC
You named the shadow I didn’t know
was curled under my ribs—
a black thing, coiled and strangling.
I carried you like a lantern,
a small, impossible sun
that refused to burn me
until it did.
Warm in the coldest corners,
hidden from sight.
You remain as a scar,
covered by clothing, puckered—
a story untold, unasked,
folded so tight
it fits inside.