Broken Back

Read my spine, for it has carried much—
a lifetime of stories, with a delicate touch.
Each vertebra holds a chapter’s worth,
a tale of joy, pain, loss, and mirth.

But the day it breaks, oh what a fuss—
no more stories to share, no endings to discuss.
The weight I’ve borne, now too heavy to bear,
cracks through the marrow, splintering the air.

What will remain when the spine gives way?
When strength falters and courage decays?
No more epilogues, no more prose,
just the echoes of fears that nobody knows.

For what have I left to hold onto tight,
but the shadows that whisper in the dead of night?
The fears that gnaw like a beast in the dark,
a relentless hunger that leaves its mark.

My back is broken, my stories untold,
my hands are empty, no warmth to hold.
The weight of the world has taken its toll,
and now I am left with a fractured soul.

So read my spine before it snaps,
before the chapters fade to black.
For once it’s gone, there’s nothing to find
but the fears I’ve hidden deep in my mind.