the way my teeth ache… like they're trying to grind down all the edges until everything's smooth and round and harmless. the things people don't say become stones in your jaw, feel them pressing, grinding. never understood how holding space could be so physical until i felt someone else’s panic settle like lead on my sternum, radiating out… and then the impossible: the shifting, the tiny give, when they breathe again. and my teeth can unclench, just a little. almost a little less broken.