Fear

the house breathed like a drunk animal

walls sweating secrets

bottles clinking like warning bells

i learned silence before i learned language

hands taught lessons the mouth never explained

love came slurred, smelling like rot and regret

promises bruised easier than skin

apologies tasted like metal and bile

i slept with one eye open

counting footsteps instead of sheep

every door slam rewrote my spine

fear became furniture

medicine cabinets were altars

powdered gods and shaking prayers

you chose numbness

and fed us the leftovers

i watched you disappear in slow motion

eyes glassed, soul pawned

you traded tomorrow

for one more quiet night

i grew up dodging ghosts that were still breathing

learning how to shrink

how to vanish without dying

how to carry weight without showing strain

anger fermented in my ribs

cold, patient, lethal

i don’t scream because i’m weak

i don’t scream because i survived

i’m built from broken clocks and clenched jaws

from mornings that tasted like last night’s mistakes

from bloodlines soaked in denial

and baptized in violence

this isn’t a cry for help

this is a record of damage

i am not what you did to me

but i am proof it happened

i carry the rot

but it doesn’t own me

i learned how to crawl out of hell

without becoming it