When I Forgot To live

Sometimes I want to shout and cry and sing, but every time my throat clamps up, and the sound fizzles out like smoke. The words crawl back down my chest, ashamed they ever tried to live. I want to jump and hop and dance, but just when the music starts, my legs turn to sand, my pulse slows to an apology. The rhythm moves without me. I want to laugh so hard it hurts, but my lips forget the shape of it. My heart drums quietly, asking for a reason to keep time. somewhere between silence and song, between stillness and sprint a spark flickers. whispers, not yet. It trembles, almost. And burns, please. And suddenly without warning I tear through the quiet, a single note splitting the dark open. It’s ugly, cracked, alive. It’s mine. The world doesn’t stop to listen, but I do.