the shaking after, that's new. like the echo of the word leaving my throat keeps vibrating in my bones, like i said something i wasn't supposed to, like the cost is going to be bigger than i can pay. but then there's this tiny thread, thin as a spider's silk, the knowing that i did it. that even with the tremor, the words went out, they touched something. and maybe, just maybe, that's enough, that the aftershocks are just the world rearranging itself around the sound of my voice, finally. god, i feel like i'm walking on eggshells just waiting for the other shoe to drop, when am i gonna just let go and let that happen