Sadness: What Settled Deep Inside Me

Some pains do not cry out. They sit quietly, growing roots where words can no longer reach.

In this piece, sorrow takes a physical form— not as a wound, but as something carried. Something nurtured by silence.

What rests inside is not emptiness, but the remains of what once lived, twisted into a shape that cannot be let go.

This is the weight of unspoken grief, the ache that stays after acceptance, the feeling that does not leave even when everything else does.

It is not breaking anymore. It has already settled.