When nothing’s pulling at my weight, Where do I stand? If nothing leans toward me, Do I still land? No signal pressing on my chest, No edge to brace against If I stop responding to the world, Do I make sense? There’s no direction asking me to move. There’s no pressure telling me what to do. Who am I when nothing needs managing? When the noise steps back and leaves me here? If I stop moving, what’s left of me? Is there anything here? I’m not pushed, I’m not resisted, Nothing’s in my way. Every instinct waits for friction That doesn’t come today. If I don’t absorb the moment, If I don’t hold the line, What shape do I fall into When there’s nothing to define? No alarms. No demands. No place my balance lands. Who am I when nothing needs managing? When I’m not required to interfere? If I stop moving, what’s left of me? Is there anything here? No center pulling me back in. No edge to tell me where I’ve been. I don’t drift I don’t stay I just don’t know where I’m placed. Who am I when nothing needs managing? When I don’t brace and I don’t steer? If I stop moving, what’s left of me? Is anything here? Unanchored... Still here... Unanchored...
