Under My Skin

It shows in the way that I shift when I’m speaking and don’t even notice the change in direction It lives in the rhythm I move in without any need for control or correction …under …my skin I don’t track where it starts or begins It didn’t arrive like a moment or signal, no clear interruption or point I could mark, it just grew in the space where I stopped paying attention and settled in layers that sat in the dark I don’t remember the second it changed me, there wasn’t a line that I crossed or a shift, it just started affecting the way that I process the weight of a thought when it forms on my lips There’s a difference in how I interpret the silence when nothing is said but it still leaves a trace, like something is guiding the way that I filter the tone of a word when it lands in its place I don’t resist it… …I don’t engage I let it exist… …in the frame No break… No sign… Just something that stays over time It moves without asking for space or permission, it sits in the structure I thought was my own, adjusting the weight of a sentence I’m forming before it even finishes leaving my tone I don’t see where it blends into motion, I just feel it present in ways I don’t name, like something that softened the edges of meaning without ever forcing a change I could claim There’s no tension attached when it shows up, it’s not something I fight or avoid, it just lives in the pattern I move in now, quiet, consistent, and fully employed I don’t carry it… …it moves with me I don’t define it… …it just is No break… No sign… Just something that stays over time It shows in the way that I shift when I’m speaking and don’t even notice the change in direction It lives in the rhythm I move in without any need for control or correction …under …my skin I don’t track where it starts or begins Not new… Not old… Just something I’ve already grown It shows in the way that I shift when I’m speaking and don’t even notice the change in direction It lives in the rhythm I move in without any need for control or correction …under …my skin I don’t track where it starts or begins