Bleeding Marble

[nandini00]

There is a child
buried in their quietness,
not gone,
just hidden
where nobody thinks to look.

You can hear them
in how they hesitate before loving
like tenderness
has learned to hurt
before it gets touched.

They grew up
in rooms that never got soft
through words that came
without any warmth
through nights that taught them
how to fade
while still standing there.

So they turned into marble,
not by choice
to survive.

Cold enough to handle it.
Still enough to avoid shattering.
Beautiful enough
to be mistaken, for not being hurt.

Marble recalls.
It recalls every hand
that never stayed.
Every call that went unanswered.
Every moment
they learned to swallow
of speaking.

And sorrow,
sorrow does not go away.
It settles in.
It waits.
It becomes a part of you inside.

Until one hour
when everything is finally calm
the statue forgets its form.

Something human
starts to bleed
through the stone.

 

[DRAGON LORD]

Nicely penned down dear

 

[IRoN-HeArT]

This piece feels painfully beautiful. The way you describe becoming “marble” just to survive is something many people will silently relate to. Some wounds do not make people loud, they make them quiet, careful, and emotionally distant.

“And the statue forgets its form” was especially powerful. It captures that moment when suppressed emotions finally break through after being buried for so long. Truly haunting and deeply human writing.