Splinters of Memory

A sharp throb pulses in the tip of my finger,

a splinter burrowing deeper, and the pain won’t linger,

searching for relief, I twist, I pull,

yet it digs in further, the ache’s powerful.

Moments of stillness grip tight on my skin,

a reminder that fixing can’t always begin,

like memories tangled, just out of my reach,

thoughts that burrow like roots in soft peach.

Every little movement sends shocks through my soul,

echoes of past hurt that still takes its toll,

I’m wrestling with discomfort too deep to expel,

a reminder that healing isn’t always so swell.