There is a place inside you No map has ever traced, a quiet room behind the ribs where light forgets to stay. No one sees it when you smile, No one hears it when you speak. It moves beneath your laughter like a river running deep. It is yours alone to carry, not carved for other hands, a language made of silence Only your soul understands. Some mornings it is heavier, a stone you cannot name, And still you rise and wear your life as if it were the same. But pain, it does not leave you when ignored or pushed away, it waits within the folds of time, it learns you day by day. It is not your enemy, though it cuts without a sound; it is the truth you buried but still lives underground. And yes, there are nights it breaks you, when endurance feels too wide, when even breath feels borrowed And there is nowhere left to hide. Yet somehow you continue, not because you do not fall, but because within the breaking You still answer life’s call. You learn to walk beside it, not beneath it, not above...
It wasn’t her choice, not at all—
Life shaped her with unasked hands,
Pressed her feet toward a narrow road
Where thorns replaced the promised land.
No sign to turn, no warning light,
Just forward steps and borrowed hope.
A one-way path that whispered stay,
Even when she couldn’t cope.
She thought it was love at first sight,
A soft beginning, warm and kind.
But it was a rock hiding a death pit,
A lie wrapped gently in a smile.
She stepped, she slipped, she fell inside,
The world above grew thin and far.
Trapped in echoes of “if only,”
Counting wounds like fallen stars.
Now she lives beneath one heavy word:
Be careful—etched into her days.
It follows her like a shadowed law,
Guiding fear in every way.
Still, inside her quiet breathing,
A wish survives, though bruised and small:
To find a crack, a rope, a way out—
To rise again, despite it all.
© 2025 Gloria Penelope
Comments