Sometimes I walk on water.
Not high above it all-
Just right there at surface level.
Not deep enough to drown.
Not deep enough to swim.
Not high enough to fear falling in.

Sometimes I walk on water
And watch schools of fish
Playfully chase one another,
Not noticing me.

I feel curious sharks graze my feet,
Confused as to why they can’t reach their meal.
Some follow for hours,
Waiting for a taste
They won’t get-
Because right now,
I’m walking on water.

If I exist, then I must be real-
That's how it works,
But it's not how I feel.

I look in the mirror,
Glimpse at the reflection,
But I walk right through her-
We have no connection.

And how many words
Can I say, rambling on,
Before someone realizes
They carry no weight?

Wasting the air
From my tired lungs-
Words are just words
When no action comes.

But action proves nothing
If my words aren’t right;
I could move mountains
And still lose the fight.

I could fill every hole
That’s carved in the ground,
But none of it matters
If I do so without sound.

If I’m not weeping,
Or begging, or screaming,
I make them uneasy-
My silence unredeeming.

I speak so much
It makes my throat hurt.
Sick of myself,
Sick of this work.

And if I begged
This sickness to take me,
She’d just laugh-
And keep on berating.

I know I’ll get up,
I’ll just walk away.
It never lasts long.
It’s only a phase.

But when your villain
Is the girl in the mirror,
It’s hard to ignore
A fear drawn so clear.

To suffer after pain
Is to simply experience
Pain in suffering
I constantly bring myself
To think about everything.

What hurts me
has hurt me
will hurt me

You think
you left her
somewhere
safe—
a version
trimmed by
loss and cost
resigned
from a rage
that won't
leave you alone

But she's not
so gone

She lives
in what
you are—
the pause
before reply
the way
you lean away
when asking why

She learned
to shed
the ache—
not
what made
you kind
you were
already kind

What pain
erased
was never
the heart
only
its outline

And true love
knows
you are enough—
you always
have been

It's possible—
to keep
the warmth
without the burn
to be the flame
without the fuel
of pain