Chair leg on the floor
Cut a line through the dust
One ugly little sound
Was enough

I got tired of the room acting holy
Tired of my breath walking soft
Tired of every wall leaning toward me
Like it knew what I had lost
So I dragged that chair from the table
Let it bite through the wood
Made the kind of noise that says
I’m still here for good

Scrape the floor
Click the latch
Let the air come in
I went still
I went small
But the quiet did not win

There’s a dent where the back leg stuttered
There’s a red mark under my hand
There’s a rhythm in the ugly places
That the soft parts understand
I don’t need to fill the whole house
I don’t need to raise the roof
I just need one sound with teeth in it
To pull me back to truth

Scrape the floor
Click the latch
Let the air come in
I went still
I went small
But the quiet did not win

Tap the strings
Mute the low
Heel on wood
Breath held close
Cut the room
Count to four
Drag the chair
Once more

I used to think silence meant mercy
Till it started choosing sides
Till it sat down at my table
And looked me in the eye
Now I don’t ask it nicely
I don’t beg it to behave
I make one stubborn sound
And step over what it claimed

Scrape the floor
Click the latch
Let the air come in
I went still
I went small
But the quiet did not win

Drop the strings
Leave a beat
Then bring the whole thing in
One chair moved
One door breathed
And the quiet did not win

Chair leg on the floor
One hard line through the dust
Cut to black
Enough