Rant

How do we start a rant with clenched teeth or tired sighs? Do we spill the words like shattered glass, sharp and scattered, or let them drip slow, filling the silence one drop at a time? How do we untangle the knots in our throats, when nothing seems to fit, and everything tilts out of place? Is it the heat rising in our chests, the burn of truth too long swallowed, or the ache of what we can’t change that sets the fire? How do we start, when the world won’t stop to listen?