I Did Not Arrive

The message was clear. But I did not arrive. Something took me— quietly. Held me hostage in a battlefield without coordinates. Echoes detonated from inside, each doubt a buried mine I stepped on without moving. Fear didn’t shout— it infested, dripping into the marrow, slow and precise. There were no weapons, only aftermath. No fight, only surrender masquerading as endurance. The scars remain— but even they refuse to speak.