The Weight of Injuries Unseen

The wallpaper exposes its rivulets

that with callused fingertips I trace,

collecting the hours one by one

as they pool into the shape of a day.

The skin knows the seasons are changing

as layers, like wallpaper, peel away.

And my two feet will hold me steady

where I once (only weeks ago) swayed.

The mind is like a pendulum,

two selves desperate to reconvene.

And I wonder if it will always feel this heavy

bearing the weight of injuries unseen.