At peace

A little torque here – a little twist there – and maybe we can keep it all inside. We know we shouldn’t. The experts tell us to get things off our chest – not let them rumble and build until the pressure becomes too great to contain.

The splitting open – the burst – may have been better served as a slow bubbling. One painful truth declared, dealt with, diminished. And then another and another – until the flood has receded.

Until only the drips remain – far more manageable – far more at peace.