The earth shakes, mimicking my weary bones, And the ground is wet with tears left behind. The cage of whiteness, locked tightly inside, Upholds the heavy weight of every day's design. Secrets and memories are ghosts we keep, Bound tightly within the walls of the chest— Forgiven, forgotten, or just cast aside, The architecture of a heart aching for rest. My steps falter on the unpaved ground, Stumbling under the weight of a calcified spine. Yet all this physical aching scarcely compares To the quiet, structural cage of skeletal frame— That has, until today, Only answered to the marrow of your name. "Note: AI image generated to complement the themes of my original poem."
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