I don’t run.
I’m not scared.
I just dance.
I talk to them.
I talk to myself.

Sometimes, they just want my smile
to remember who we were
before the darkness became the rhythm.

They move through me —
on my walls, in my head,
through my skin, in my bed.

So I dance.
I just dance.

In the corners, in the silence,
in the depths of the oceans.
In the fire that purifies stronger soldiers.
Through the noise, through the storms,
and a million thoughts.

When I stop, they are here.
Whispers like ghosts, my own memories.
I want silence.
I want peace.
It’s too loud for mind to be clear.

When I don’t want to fight,
I just roll a snipe.
Heard that fire scares them…
so I give it to light.
But you know…
I’m just giving them time.

They stopped to dance.
They seem afraid.
They don’t speak,
but they stayed.