Halcyon

surviving the voltage

i used to catch lightning in a bottle,
and complain about the bruise it left.
back then, pain was loud 
it demanded an audience.
i called it catharsis,
but it was just a child screaming at the storm
to notice her.

now, i let it strike inside me,
quietly, cleanly.
no flash, no applause.
the electricity hums beneath my ribs,
turning my veins into thin blue wires.
i have learned to glow
without breaking.

once, i wanted the thunder 
the dramatic collapse,
the mascara rivers, the cinematic grief.
but now, i only want
to survive the voltage gracefully.

the lightning still comes,
but i don't chase it anymore.
i hold it.
and when it burns,
i stay still.
because some pains
are meant to be endured,
not performed.