
I remember a voice Smaller than the silence Before the fracture learned my name (Don’t forget me...) I wove the wound into architecture Load-bearing sorrow in the spine Built this cathedral out of splinters So the flood would pass me by Teeth sharpened by the hunger Nerves cauterized in ash I survived by becoming Something you would never recognize Still... There's movement under the surface Small ghost beneath the scar Whispers under the current A pirate signal bleeding through If I could tear the sickness from the marrow Pull the fracture from the bone Would there be anything beneath this armor (...I'm trapped...) Or have I become the wound alone? If I could wish the darkness into silence Would you finally breathe again? (...let me breathe...) Or would I vanish with the violence That taught this mask to stand? I mistook survival for identity Believed numbness was peace Fed the fire until the shadow Learned to speak for me Every mirror split in sections Every feeling quarantined One voice yearning to forget One voice begging to be remembered (Please don’t forget me...) ... I... remember... (...don’t erase me...) I won't forget you... (...again...) No... ...never again You were never the fracture You were the proof There was something before it The thing I built to carry pain (Mistook itself for me) I taught myself to stop remembering And called the absence peace (“Don’t forget me...”) (“Don’t...”) If one of us must surrender to the silence Let the armor be undone Take this hollow thing that learned to survive And spare the frightened one But if the mask is all that’s left beneath me If the wound became my name Then who is speaking through these borrowed lungs? (And who remains?) I still hear you breathing Beneath the weight Beneath the ash waiting in the dark Small hands against the glass (Please...) (Don’t forget...)