#frenzy - Hello Poetry

My body jitters like a cage full of trapped sparrows. My bones vibrate with a thin metallic ringing, as if someone struck my skeleton like a bell and forgot to stop the echo. My heart is not just beating, it is everywhere, ricocheting through my wrists, my knees, my teeth, a frantic percussion stitched into marrow. I do not know what happened. One moment the world was steady glass, the next it warped like heat above asphalt. I zoned out and when I came back the room had grown strange, tilted slightly, like gravity had been tampered with. It has been hours. The clock crawls, stubborn and slow, but my body refuses to settle. The air feels electric, prickling against my skin like invisible static. I lie in the dark with my eyes open, watching the ceiling ripple into unfamiliar shapes. Sleep stands somewhere distant and unreachable, a pale animal at the edge of a frozen lake, watching but never approaching. It is three in the morning and the night feels enormous. My nerves spark like frayed wires. Frustration burns under my ribs, a hot coal that refuses to dim. Anger coils through my chest like a storm serpent searching for a place to strike. Confusion spreads through my mind like spilled ink, blotting everything into strange, indistinct shapes. My thoughts race in circles, frantic comets trapped in orbit. I want to scream. I want to tear the silence open and let something out of me, something loud and violent and bright. My body feels like it might burst into a thousand startled birds. But nothing happens. The room stays quiet. The night stays still. And I sit here trembling, a vessel filled with too much thunder.

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Mar 7

Mar 7, 2026 at 3:32 AM UTC

poetriesgrave

Fever in My Bones

My body jitters like a cage full of trapped sparrows. My bones vibrate with a thin metallic ringing, as if someone struck my skeleton like a bell and forgot to stop the echo. My heart is not just beating, it is everywhere, ricocheting through my wrists, my knees, my teeth, a frantic percussion stitched into marrow. I do not know what happened. One moment the world was steady glass, the next it warped like heat above asphalt. I zoned out and when I came back the room had grown strange, tilted slightly, like gravity had been tampered with. It has been hours. The clock crawls, stubborn and slow, but my body refuses to settle. The air feels electric, prickling against my skin like invisible static. I lie in the dark with my eyes open, watching the ceiling ripple into unfamiliar shapes. Sleep stands somewhere distant and unreachable, a pale animal at the edge of a frozen lake, watching but never approaching. It is three in the morning and the night feels enormous. My nerves spark like frayed wires. Frustration burns under my ribs, a hot coal that refuses to dim. Anger coils through my chest like a storm serpent searching for a place to strike. Confusion spreads through my mind like spilled ink, blotting everything into strange, indistinct shapes. My thoughts race in circles, frantic comets trapped in orbit. I want to scream. I want to tear the silence open and let something out of me, something loud and violent and bright. My body feels like it might burst into a thousand startled birds. But nothing happens. The room stays quiet. The night stays still. And I sit here trembling, a vessel filled with too much thunder.