I keep walking.
Not because I'm brave-
because I don't know where else to go.

The floor cuts deep.
Thin lines open,
quiet red truths rising to the surface.

Every step says:stop.
Bij I don't.

Pain is constant,
like breath,
like gravity.

There is no path,
only the breaking.
Only the sound
of what I used to be,
cracking beneath me.

And still-
I walk.