i drink a coffee the way a wound bleeds
warm beneath my skin
its heat bites at my palms
a reminder of something
that once beat too loud
that was swallowed in the calm
that comes after the storm

they say the room leans into silence
a soft presence that fills in blanks
barely there and kind of everywhere
clinging to places no one dares to touch

my girlfriend once asked
if i ever wanted the world to feel it
my heat beneath the calm
the quiet fire that burns low
waiting for the right moment to go wild
if i ever wanted to break something solid
glass bone or a fragile line

i smiled at her slow and uneven
like a ribbon unwinding in the wind
i wasn't ready to give her an answer
the ground beneath me stirred
a ripple of something getting ready to break
the quiet before the earthquake

i know rage

how it rises
like smoke spewing from wet wood
a scream tangled in tears you can't hide
a fist swelling thick with heat
only to roll back into itself
settling like ash

but i also know silence
deep and dependable
like the roots of a big tree
twisting beneath the earth
keeping strong against the storm
kindly asking to keep off

it echoes in me
kind of a reminder
this too will pass
and when it does
what remains will not be shaken

and i think
there's a slant to the world
a tilt
faint but undeniable
where everything feels
kind of out of sorts
like a burning mess
💭