One side stays still.

It follows the steps.
Turns the key.
Shuts the door.
Chews the food.
Nods at the noise.
Fakes the pulse.
Smiles at the right time.
Stands in the right place.
Waits for the feeling
whatever it’s supposed to be
that never arrives.

The other side claws at the walls with
teeth
Wants to scream into ceramic tile until
throat becomes dust
Wants to punch through the mirror just
to see if the blood
would finally mean something.

The mouth moves
not with language,
but with static.
Nothing lands.
Nothing sticks.
Each word collapses
into white noise.

Inside the chest cavity,
a thunderstorm trapped in a sealed jar.
The rage is real.
The numbness is louder.
And that’s the crime.

How dare nothing exist
when everything should hurt.
How dare stillness
survive the collapse
of what was once burning.

Flesh obeys.
Heart ticks.
Joints continue to flex.
All mechanical.
The system still runs,
even when the soul
has abandoned the building.

Chairs are sat in.
Water is swallowed.
Music is played,
as if melody could resurrect
what’s long dead and buried.

There’s no crying.
No wild shouting in the night.
Only the low vibration
of pressure building,
somewhere behind the rib cage.
Pressure with no voice.
Pressure with no release.

There is no crisis.
Only the slow erosion
of meaning.
Only the machine,
doing what it was trained to do.

Laundry gets folded.
Shoes are tied.
Lights go off at night.
And somewhere in the dark,
rage paces the floor
a caged wolf with broken teeth.

Not broken.
Not healed.
Just stuck

Trapped between two impossible truths

The body is functioning.
The body is furious.

The world spins in color outside.
Skies bleed into the trees.
Laughter shatters across sidewalks.
But the rage stays caged,
burning without smoke,
a match struck again and again
against stone that won’t catch.

One day the flame might find breath.
One day the silence might split.
But for now…

Teeth grind behind still lips.
Hands shake beneath folded arms.
And the soul
scratches its name
into the inside of the skull,
just to prove
It was once here.

Biography:

I came to Aims with the intention to finish what I had started so long ago and to build a better future for myself and my family while pursuing my lifelong interest in criminal justice. As a student and a mom, my journey hasn’t been easy but definitely worth it!. I never really considered myself as an artsy person until I took mythology and creative writing with Professor Karen McCurley-Hardesty. In her classes, I learned so much and discovered that I genuinely loved writing. It gave me a new way to express myself and reflect on my experiences. My pieces Internal Haunting and Stillness with Teeth were inspired by exploring inner thoughts and emotions that are often hard for me to put into words. They focused on the quieter, more unsettling feelings and what it means to sit with them. I’m drawn to writing that feels honest, even when it’s uncomfortable. Being included in this publication means the world to me. I honestly never thought any of my work would be chosen. Stepping outside of my comfort zone pushed me to create something beautiful and meaningful. Thank you so much!!