Shadows

In the quiet corners of my mind, shadows linger, echoes of a past that clings, like an old coat I can’t quite shed, woven from fear and whispered threats. Years have passed, but the heart remembers, a flicker in the dark, a creak of the floor, the sudden silence that steals my breath. I walk through sunlit streets, but the weight of those days sits heavy on my chest, a ghost I can’t name, an ache that feels like home. Still, I rise, a fragile bloom in concrete, roots deep in resilience, yet in the night, I sometimes hear the storm, the crack of thunder that makes me flinch. I am free, and yet the chains whisper, reminding me that healing is a journey, not a destination.