You hear that?
That’s not fear.
That’s warning.

Room too still for a night this late
Air too sharp for a harmless face
Your name hangs in the chandelier
Like a crack that only I can hear
Black silk calm with a fault-line stare
Gold on the wrist, but there’s smoke in the air
You call it quiet, I call it restraint
Some storms don’t need the sky to change
Slow breath—
Don’t blink—
You’re standing on the edge of me.

I kept my fire under glass
Held it steady, made it last
But pressure learns its own release—
And peace can turn its teeth.

When the glass starts shaking
Don’t say I didn’t warn you first
I go still before I move
Go cold before I strike the truth
If you feel the room vibrate—
Run
When the glass starts shaking.

Your voice got smaller in the dark
Like a match pretending it’s a spark
But I know heat, I know disguise
I know the tremor before the light
One hand on the velvet armchair frame
One pulse away from speaking your name
No raised tone, no wasted scene
The deadliest thing is what stays clean
Hold still—
Stay close—
You never knew how far this goes.

I kept my mercy in a cage
Fed it patience, fed it grace
But every saint has got a seam—
And every seam can split.
When the glass starts shaking
That means something buried found its worth
I go still before I move
Go cold before I strike the truth
If you feel the whole world vibrate—
Run
When the glass starts shaking.

Too late…
The glass…
is shaking.