The sword that still breathes
“The sword that still breathes”
I don’t remember when I stopped belonging to the world of the living… but the forest remembers me, and with it… memories I still carry with me.
I walk among its shadows as if they were home, as if every tree knew my name before I forgot it.
They say I’m a warrior.
But I’m just a memory that is still breathing.
The sword I carry doesn’t belong to me.
It never did.
It still holds the warmth of his hands, though time has tried to erase everything.
Sometimes I hold it against my chest, as if I could hear his voice passing through the metal, as if in the silence… he still chose me.
The forest watches me when I undress, not with judgment… but with respect.
Here there is no shame, only skin, scars and memories that won’t let themselves be touched.
I sink into the river to forget, but the water always gives me back his reflection.
And then I understand…
that I don’t carry him with me out of duty,
nor out of a promise.
I carry him because loving him was the only thing that ever made me feel alive.
And now…
it’s the only thing that keeps me from disappearing.
Because as long as his memory burns in me, not even death will dare to claim me.
YERTTIE
APRIL 03, 2026
