Standing to attention,
eyes sweeping the room,
hands folded behind me
as if restraint were a language
my body learned too young.
The mind flickers —
a storm behind a locked door,
thoughts pacing like shadows
that refuse to settle.
And still I hold myself still,
breath tight in my chest,
as if someone might read
the tremor beneath my ribs.
There is a closeness in the air,
a presence felt more than seen,
the kind that turns silence
into something weighted,
something that presses gently
against the edges of my composure.
In the moment,
caught between fear and longing,
between the urge to step forward
and the instinct to stay braced —
a quiet confession
in the way my pulse betrays me.
11h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 8:50 AM UTC
Standing to attention,
eyes sweeping the room,
hands folded behind me
as if restraint were a language
my body learned too young.
The mind flickers —
a storm behind a locked door,
thoughts pacing like shadows
that refuse to settle.
And still I hold myself still,
breath tight in my chest,
as if someone might read
the tremor beneath my ribs.
There is a closeness in the air,
a presence felt more than seen,
the kind that turns silence
into something weighted,
something that presses gently
against the edges of my composure.
In the moment,
caught between fear and longing,
between the urge to step forward
and the instinct to stay braced —
a quiet confession
in the way my pulse betrays me.
