The home in you.

The disease of the century, the one that isolates and sets us back in numbers.

It is painful but it is not harsh.

It is not sudden.

It makes no sound.

It lets the whimpers be.

It is the kind of pain that made a house out of your body.

It eats you away as you slowly become a shell.

A hollowed pearl left to the weathering.

Did it creep its way in?

It hurts and it defeats.

Again I remind you that it is not harsh.

It is the closest you'll ever be to the sublime.

It brings a smile and when it's gone it leaves a far too resounding silence.

It does not take control,

it lingers between your cells.

Inside of your being.

It does not take over,

you take less space.

Soon enough you shelter,

you encase.

You become the shadow of this pain

as you bring it to the light.

The pain as big as you are.

Again I remind you that you gave it a home.