shaking out like sounds

these days of hiding—like the deep pockets of a closet that never see the sun—remind me of the urge to scream. right now i want to scream until my lungs explode. start running until i’ve forgotten how to stop. this is the way to move closer to something like a reclamation of that necessary space. where this is room to breathe. where all my words or the desire to make them dance together across the page or into waiting ears haven’t been lost—like birds wings beating into nothing.

resolution: no matter what and without apologies, i am never coming back to this place.