The Gentle Delay of Disbelief

My trembling voice assembles
a pathetic example of pain
marked by the compulsion
of becoming untroubled,
unbounded
  by the bog of content-

I reside deep in myself
--the weight of this hurt
clenched like crow claws
upon my shoulders--
smashed in denial
and defied by the storm.

So choke down the fault
next to a soul, shattered,
yet satisfied by
the gentle delay of my disbelief.