Tears gone but hands still shaking

Tears gone but hands still shaking,

a twitch beneath my skin that won’t quit.

Fingers tremble like they’re spelling

out grief in a language I can’t read.

The blanket feels too coarse,

threads scratching a raw place

where words once fell, wet and heavy.

My hands write a new story—

one I don’t understand yet.

The body moves on its own,

a slow revolt against the storm

that passed but left its fingerprints

etched beneath the skin’s thin veil.