Silent Victory

Words edged sharp, cut deeper than skin,

a chair overturned, salt spilled slow.

The lamp flickers low and uneven,

the silence after the final blow.

I held the last word too long, too loud,

the room chilled where warm breath fled.

A victory carved in cold shadows,

the taste of regret beneath the dread.

Echoes curl in the emptied space,

like smoke from a fire burned too fast.

I won the fight but lost the room—

holding silence that won’t unclasp.