The River of Ache

The River of Ache

It claws, it clings,
it rushes, it roars.
It seeps through the cracks,
it breaks through the doors.
It carves out your chest,
yet softens the stone.
It drowns you in silence,
yet claims you its own.
It smiles like comfort,
then cuts like a knife.
It carries the weight
of your half-lived life.
You feed it with secrets,
you fight, you concede;
still it pulls you beneath
with an infinite need.
But this river remembers,
and this river stays.
It knows every wound,
it knows every phase.
It mirrors your grief,
yet it mirrors your fire;
a current of loss,
a current of desire.
And though it may ache,
though it tears, though it bends;
the river within you
is the place that mends.