Tension in the Ordinary

A bus stop buzz, a flicker of sound,

voices clash, strangers in tension abound.

My jaw clenches tight, without thought or care,

body reacting, a drumbeat of despair.

Just waiting for wheels to roll and arrive,

yet inside I’m trapped, like a bee in a hive.

The pavement below, chipped, worn, and grey,

takes in the weight of another day.

I wrestle with muscles, unaware of the strain,

carrying burdens, unspoken, like rain.

How often I tighten, like roots in a storm,

while the world spins around me, both fragile and warm.