A splinter too deep to tweeze

That bench caught the light, sharp angles of pain,

wood splinters that cling like words left unclaimed.

We laughed at the scars, remembered the falls,

didn't mention the years where the silence just stalls.

A friend picked at wounds, how they ache out of sight,

yet here I sit wondering, who’s wrong and who’s right.

Time softens the edges, but still, they’re not gone,

like splinters too deep, you just carry them on.