Silent dark
shadows
”When you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you learn to lick it off knives.”
—Lauren Eden, The Lioness Awakens
i was raised by the dark—
mother taught me to swallow
the unsaid. my tongue split
on edges, learned to sip honey
from blades.
shadows don’t starve.
they chew the unspoken:
hiss of struck matches,
salt of a wound,
a fist clenching grief
like a prayer.
i wear my scars as cutlery.
each night, i set the table
with my father’s silence,
my mother’s marrowless bones.
i eat what the light abandons.
i drink what it fears.
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