Storm

There’s a storm inside my thoughts A quiet pressure turning in slow circles Shaping questions I can’t quite hold Pulling me toward places I’ve avoided I move through memories like old rooms Each one rearranged Something rises beneath A rhythm made of tension and breath Twisting through the spaces I tried to keep untouched I’m not afraid of what I find there It’s only the part of me that listens The part that keeps the stories I once pushed aside I move through memories like old rooms Each one rearranged Something rises beneath A rhythm made of tension and breath Twisting through the spaces There’s a storm inside my thoughts A quiet pressure turning in slow circles Shaping questions I can’t quite hold Pulling me toward places I’ve avoided And when the storm finally opens It doesn’t break me It shows me the patterns I built And the path that leads beyond them I move through memories like old rooms Each one rearranged Something rises beneath A rhythm made of tension and breath Twisting through the spaces I tried to keep untouched