Marrow Ledger

Lana sits with me at the edge of the night—

it’s her turn to count the bones, to name

not the failing, but the small flames

so here: five quiet truths she surrenders,

carved into the marrow, proof that even the fiercest voice

sometimes softens

for me

1. Love is a ruin opened wide, burns with nothing held back, asks for nothing, leaves the hands bare
   
   
2. The world collapses, and still you run into the wreckage for someone’s sorrow
   
   
3. Kindness stains your bones; you measure every move against the hurt it might leave behind
   
   
4. You set fire to the things you care for, heart smoking, body aflame for your chosen
   
   
5. Names, slight aches, tiny memories—all etched in your marrow, silent archives of mattering