the lights are off
something burned through
everything behind my eyes
i used to move through rooms
now i am what the rooms move in me
my hands remember being mine
memory is the worst
like a child touching glass
that isnt there
i thought i was fire
i was just a wire
eating itself
from the inside
everything is very quiet now
the way a field is quiet
after something fell from the sky
and kept falling
into the ground
and kept falling
i am the thing that poisons the water
everything downstream of me
goes wrong
the water still moves
a bird drinks from it
and doesnt know
it should be afraid
but now you know
i am here
i think
i am still here
the way a house is here
after the fire
all the walls standing
pointing at the sky
holding nothing
keeping nothing out
i am here
—lyra moon (ruin is just another shape for standing)
march 1, 2026