Stitches of Silence

It’s been a week, the thread pulls tight,

under the skin, where pain finds light.

I count ceiling tiles, shadows flicker,

with every breath, my thoughts grow thicker.

The nurse asks me how I feel, my gaze drifts,

like lost ships in waters where silence lifts.

A piece of thread caught in a crack,

a reminder of futures, and the things I lack.

Stitched words buried beneath the surface,

a tapestry woven of hesitant purpose.

Each knot tells a story I’m afraid to tell,

wrapped up in whispers, hidden so well.

Yet here in this stillness, I start to see,

the scars that remain, they’re just part of me.