Under Pressure

A jolt through my back as I bend down to lace,

reminds me of burdens I carry with grace.

Each knot holds a story, a whisper of pain,

my spine bears the weight of each misstep, each strain.

A lone splinter lies there, like secrets concealed,

a reminder of moments my truth has revealed.

I’m hunched with regret, with the things left undone,

my spine, a monument to battles not won.

With each passing hour, I feel it, the tug,

like thoughts of my past, wrapped in a hug.

Under pressure I rise, yet beneath it I bend,

searching for strength in the shape I defend.