I Carry Shadows Quietly

A poem born from the part of me I keep locked away— the quiet storm, the hidden bruise, the shadow I learned to live with. These lines aren’t pretty. They’re honest.

I walk through life like someone balancing glass.
one wrong word,
one raised voice,
and everything inside me threatens to crack.
People see my face, not the fractures.

I’ve learned to breathe quietly
so no one hears the shaking.
I’ve learned to smile
so no one asks questions
I’m too tired to answer.

I don’t break loudly.
I break in corners,
in the silence of my room,
in the darkness where no one bothers to look.
That’s where the real parts of me hide.
the parts no one has ever earned.

Inside me, memories crawl back
like shadows that refuse to die.
I never invited them.
They just live here now,
haunting the places I thought were safe.

But I keep going.
Not because I feel strong.
but because I refuse to let the world
claim the last untouched piece of me.

I carry wounds people forget they gave.
I carry expectations that crush my spine.
I carry voices that should’ve protected me
but instead taught me fear.

And the worst part?
I still love them.
I still try.
I still bend instead of break them back.

But there is a fire in me
that darkness can’t smother.
a stubborn pulse,
a quiet rage,
a promise to myself
that I will survive the parts of life
that were never meant for someone like me.

I may walk with shadows,
but I don’t bow to them.
I stand, even shaking.
I rise, even hurting.
I move, even when every step feels borrowed.

I am not the weak one.
I am the one who keeps going
while carrying what others can’t even face.

Author's Note

Read gently.
This piece comes from a place I rarely enter myself.
Any thoughts on mood or impact are welcome