BIG CAT

I feel it cooking in my bones,
feel it’s urgency surface.
Quiet rage, foam of fire.
Memory charred at the edges.

Pacing back and forth,
a big cat can’t be contained.

It’s a slain soul.
Screams into silence.
It’s undercover crying in the rain.
It’s the breaks,
wind whistling through the cracks.
It’s burning anger painted to black.

It has claws.
It’s attack.

It’s line after line after line after line,
trying to get there.
Palpitations. Hot words. Stagnant chaos. Exalted escape.

It permeates the ether,
floats itself into spray.
Slaked words washed away.
Ripples rest upon still waters.

It’s the space between breaths.

Safety found.

Thought put to rest.

Photo by Bucography on Unsplash