Shock in the Silence

Socks slide soft on faded carpet,

a spark leaps quick, an urgent start.

Finger meets cold metal—snap—

a sudden sting, a tiny trap.

A crackle jumps, brittle and raw,

a reminder I never saw.

Beneath the skin, beneath the bone,

quiet breaks in a shock alone.

An electric pinch in morning’s breath,

a fleeting pulse, a taste of death.

Nothing broken, nothing bent—

just this sharp, unearned lament.