CCC #080 | 01.04.2026

Contained

It sits like a secret
too heavy to carry
and too important to discard.

Bolted shut,
weathered into silence,
it has learned the discipline
of holding.

What was placed inside—
fear, memory, truth—
no longer asks to be released.
Time has softened the urgency,
but not the weight.

We all become vessels eventually,
keeping what we cannot yet name,
sealing what might spill
if opened too soon.

Still…
there is a quiet question
in its rusted skin—

is it protection
or prison?

And if the lid were lifted,
would anything escape—
or simply breathe
for the first time?

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