Shake

Our hands shake blue
We are waiting for the cans
Hair pulled back
Thick cotton on our back
Sweat trickling
Head racing
We don't know what to do
All is quiet
And yet our brain rages
We are trapped in this cycle with no way out
We listen to the voices
They are loud now
Ice does not extinguish the flames of their being
Our hands shake blue
We are waiting for the cans.