Sigmund Gilbert

What the Trembling Knows

I used to tremble when she was near.

At the end of the day -

when her back turned,

when the air got too quiet,

when I\'d run out of words to keep the weight from crushing us both.

She never asked why.

Maybe she thought I was cold.

But it was the opposite.

I was burning.

Silently.

Completely.

And now,

tonight,

I tremble again.

Not because she\'s here -

but because I finally let go

of everything I was gripping in the name of love.

I spoke.

Not to win her.

Not to fix us.

But to finally

stop bleeding in silence.

This shaking -

it\'s not weakness.

It\'s the sound of truth

leaving my bones.

It\'s the echo

of everything I held in

just to keep her from seeing

how much I felt.

I am not dying.

I am opening.

I am still here.

And I am free.