Slamming doors.
A jolt through the spine.
Jaws locked tight –
In a vise of tension.
The back is like a live wire
On a shaky bridge,
Where every shudder
Is an unbearable strain.
Stop. Freeze.
Count off a second.
It’s just a car.
An old sedan.
This isn’t a strike
Into the artery of the soil,
The city is just
A loud, hollow drum.
A fuel cap flipping –
Not metal exploding.
The screech of a streetcar –
Not the whistle of a wing.
I’m learning to live
In this peace, slowly,
Waiting for this stubborn
Spasm to leave.
One. Two.
Exhale the fatigue.
The heart reclaims
Its stolen right.
It’s just noise.
The road home –
Into a safe sky,
Into living words.