the weight of your name

​

How many times have I melted into this earth

before today? I think I've lost count.

My body plummets down to an ocean of noise,

static swallowing me whole until my lungs

begin the process of begging.

I think I like it - this kind of pain,

how numbing and silent it is

to not carry the weight of your own name.

I admire how confident the water is,

how she doesn't ask for permission

to envelope me, she just occupies this space

without a trace of guilt.

For someone who finds comfort in control,

this kind of dying hasn’t shaken me yet.