Under the Skin

The sharp edge grazes, a sudden and rude,

like a reminder that pain can nestle and cling.

Caught on the fence, a small, subtle feud,

where I left behind the echo of a sting.

This splinter digs deeper, a shadow that grows,

every thought wrapped tight in a lingering ache.

I can’t ignore it, this wound that it knows,

or the way it pulls me, makes my spirit shake.

I glance at the wood, each grain holds its weight,

a simple reminder of moments unkind.

A lesson in patience, in pain’s heavy state,

that whispers the truths I’m reluctant to find.