A Thorn Inside

My finger swells, red rimmed and angry,

a needle’s edge too small to find

that silent shard lodged beneath skin.

Every little shift sends fire shooting,

somewhere, just beyond sight,

that thin sliver breathes pain into flesh.

I try to pick at it—

fingernails broken, shaking,

prying only to push deeper,

a fool chasing a ghost in my palm.

A quiet sting I carry like a secret,

unseen but pulsing, a dull drum

inside the skin’s fragile wall.

It won’t come out,

and I don’t know if I want it to.