not yet devoured

I have learned to carry darkness,
folding it carefully beneath my ribs,
a secret too heavy to name.

It weighs more than stone,
yet leaves me hollow
a vessel filled with echoes
of what should have been.

Some nights,
I envy the grave,
at least it is honest in its silence.
I envy the fire,
at least it consumes without apology.

Still, I walk.
One step, then another,
dragging my shadow behind me
like a broken prayer.

And in that dragging,
something cruel,
something beautiful,
the darkness has not swallowed me whole.
Not yet.

Fikayo Alade

Grace Fikayo Alade is a Nigerian poet and writer whose work captures the tender spaces between pain and healing. She writes with honesty and faith, offering words that remind readers that even brokenness can bloom.