The Deepest Cut

There's a kind of hurt

That brings you to your knees,

A kind of hurt

You fear will never ease.

It’s the pain that breaks your soul,

A hollow, wrenching ache,

A silent scream within your chest,

A hole that nothing makes.

It’s the hurt that grips your throat,

Each breath a desperate fight;

You try to call, but no one hears—

No answer in the night.

You’re gasping, trembling,

Crushed beneath its weight,

And when you finally scream,

It shatters like a blade.

You can’t believe it’s you,

This echo from the deep;

The rhythm of your breath is gone,

And time feels lost in grief.

Grief wears many faces—

Loss of love, of life, of self;

It cuts like the sharpest knife,

Leaving nothing of yourself.

If you’ve known this kind of pain,

I’m so sorry that you do.

But please know, you’re not alone—

There’s strength in reaching through.