They come without warning,
a slow gathering of shadows
in the corners of the mind.

Not loud,
but persistent-
like the ticking of a distant clock
you can't ignore.

They settle behind the eyes,
bend the spine just slightly,
make even the light
feel heavier.

Words lose their edges,
become too sharp or too soft
to hold.

You carry them quietly,
like stones in your pocket,
hoping no one sees
the weight that keeps you
from floating.