i knew the voice.
i knew
where it came from.
and yet,
my hands
still reached
for the chains
i had forged
in the fires
of helplessness.
if i could
just say the right thing,
make the right choice,
perhaps
nothing would break.
again.
so i measured
my words.
carried
another’s silence.
mistook their sorrow
for my failure,
their distance
for something
i must repair.
until i saw
the chains
were not holding
anyone together.
they were holding me
in yesterday.
i had carried
what was never
mine to carry.
and somewhere
beneath the weight,
i forgot
how to be free.
and so,
i opened
my hands.
not to let
love go,
but to let
love breathe.
the echoes
still come.
but i no longer
reach
for the chains.
i can love
another soul
and still
be free.
© 2026 Corvalya
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The fifth threshold : The Quiet