Moving

Even while I’m at rest,

There’s a tremor in my stomach,

A haze billowing in my skull

A storm surging through my veins

–

Quivering,

And boiling alive in agitation,

Tempos rage in my chest

Rattling the bars to their cage

–

Even if I’m far away

From all horror and hardship

The heart’s alarm blares

At all the whispers in the dark

–

Set afire,

Even when I am enfolded in comfort

Yesterday’s lashes scald

Weaving a tapestry of scars