This is a poem about the ache.

This is a poem about the ache.

Sometimes the sadness in my body
feels so out of reach.
too hot to touch,
too old to name.

It hums beneath my ribs,
a quiet ache that remembers
what my mind has long forgotten.

I sit beside it now.
Not to fix,
not to flee,
but to listen.

You are ancient, I whisper.
You have carried storms and stories,
love and leaving,
birth and breaking.

You ache,
because you remember
how much I once loved.
You burn,
because you’re trying to keep me alive.

And so, I breathe into you.
I let the tears be translators,
the breath be balm.

Maybe you are not here to wound me,
but to remind me
of what it means to feel.

Maybe healing
is not about cooling the fire,
but learning to stand within its glow.

So stay, if you must.
And I will meet you here
softly, slowly,
until we both remember
that love was never lost,
only transforming.

Poem by