Residual Heat

Intro – Low hum, restless]

It doesn’t fade fast anymore.

I leave and it follows me home

Still buzzing under skin and bone

The shower runs, but it stays put

Like heat you can’t shake once you’ve been burned good

I sit, I wait, I count my breath

Tell myself this isn’t need — it’s rest

But quiet feels thin

Like something’s missing when I’m not in it

I don’t think about doing it

I think about not doing it

And that’s worse

There’s residual heat

It lingers in me

I don’t chase the act

I chase the relief

If I go back, it’s not desire

It’s just cooling down the fire

I replay moments I should forget

Not the end — the seconds before it

The look, the sound, the pause too long

That space where everything feels wrong

I tell myself this is normal now

After pressure, after release somehow

But each time it fades a little less

Each time I feel it in my chest

I don’t plan the next one

It plans me

There’s residual heat

Under my skin

I don’t want more

I just want it gone again

If I return, it’s not desire

It’s maintenance

It’s putting out the fire

Just once more to settle it

Just once more to quiet it

Just—

Why isn’t it quiet yet?

There’s residual heat

And it knows my name

I don’t feel whole

Until I feel the same

I don’t chase the act

I chase the peace

But the peace gets shorter

Every time it leaves

I’ll sleep after the next one.