cold water over my wrists
watching the sink fill up and drain
over and over
trying to remember what my hands looked like
before they learned how to ruin things
i thought if i stopped moving
the morning might forget to leave me behind
there is an empty room where my chest used to be
no fever left
no anger
just a heavy, patient frost
filling the corners of the floor
i can hear it breathing outside the door
that dark, familiar weight
it knows my real name
the one i am too tired to answer to anymore
i traded every gentle piece of myself
just to feel nothing for a single second
and now the air is thick with smoke
and the sunlight doesn’t reach the glass
i tried to reach the bank
i swear to you i reached until my arms burned
i didn’t want to drown tonight
i just wanted the noise in my head to stop
i am so sorry
i swallowed the light until there was nothing left
i only wanted to rest
and instead i broke the only thing that was keeping us safe
if the dark comes for you next
don’t look at it
just remember that i loved you from the very bottom of the water
remember that i loved you
even when i couldn’t keep my head above the tide
—lyra moon (and the hardest thing about drowning is knowing you took the light down with you)
august 12, 2026