she lives here

not in light

not in language

not in healing

she lives beneath

the part of me that pretends

she waits

when i lie

when i laugh

when i ask for less than i want

she does not forgive

she does not forget

she remembers every hand

every silence

every time i said yes

and meant nothing

i feel her

when i touch someone

i do not love

when i say i’m fine

and mean i am vanishing

she does not scream

she does not sob

she watches

and some nights

when it’s quiet enough

i hear her breathing

through me

and i remember

what it is

to be dangerous