WITHIN THE HOLLOW

By Ripley Ford

There is a place inside me

where light dares not touch,

a space where edges fracture,

and shadows stretch in every direction.

I live here

in the quiet of what I know,

where silence is not emptiness,

but the pulse of all I've become.

It is not void,

this darkness that holds me,

but a vastness I’ve learned to claim,

where sorrow blooms in tangled vines,

and joy flickers like a dying ember,

flickering, yet never gone.

I do not fear this place

I’ve become its inhabitant.

It is here I shed the skin

of expectations,

and the weight of the world

is lighter,

tender in its gravity.

In the hollow of myself,

I see truth that is not loud,

but steady,

woven in the quiet reverence

of every scar,

every crack that lets light through.

I am drawn to the darkness,

not because it swallows,

but because it holds me

steady in its embrace,

a soft and knowing cradle

where I can rest in what is mine.

Here, I meet myself,

in the flickering shadows,

untamed,

imperfect,

but undeniably real.

There is beauty in the mess,

the fragments,

the pieces that make me whole.

And in this dark,

I find my light

not a blinding burst,

but a quiet glow,

burning steady through the night.

#darkpoetsclub