(no subject)
There are, between the muted screams so
violently expelled and too urgently suppressed,
moments of gentle ease in which I can exist,
solely. In the quietude the desperation settles
and for some precious time-though I never
know how long-I breathe regularly, release
the tight grip I hold upon my heart and
let it beat freely, my throat briefly trusting
and calm. I sip green tea and sift my fingers
through my hair, leaning back in the chair
to which my body curves. I let gravity press
our surfaces together, knowing that it is only
a matter of time until this force will betray me,
as it has so many times before. Tip me over and
I will pour out. I cling to this sun that warms my core,
a heat so unlike that which burns in frenzied chaos,
too tarnished to think it anything more than temporary.