Chronic

 Something takes its place in my chest,
a shadow, a storm, a silent hymn.
It claws my lungs wide,
tears my skin open,
stakes its claim upon my heart.
Ribs splinter beneath its touch,
breaking, bending,
a violence I cannot escape.

 And yet, it lingers, tender.
With lips of fire, it kisses each crack,
each broken edge.
Bandages bloom in its wake,
wrapping me in fragile grace.
It whispers soft truths,
sweet lies,
words that heal and hush—
until I forget
the ache that brought me here.