I have applied the strict formatting guidelines required by major streaming platforms: removed all bracketed production notes and metadata, standardized the capitalization so every line starts with an uppercase letter, and stripped out trailing punctuation (like periods) to ensure a smooth approval process. You ever look at something clean And realize You’re the thing making it difficult? Room six, north side, temporary walls One chair, one sink, no pictures at all Coat on the heater, map folded flat Emergency radio sleeping beside my bag They gave me water in a hospital glass Said, "Drink, you’ve been moving too fast" I watched one small bubble climb through the clear Like it knew where it wanted to go from here My hand kept shaking, so I blamed the train Blamed low blood sugar, weather, lack of sleep, pain Anything practical, anything plain Anything except hearing your voice again You said, "You make yourself useful So nobody asks what you need" I called that cruel at the time Now it sounds like clarity Because I carried whole rooms When the lights went out Gave directions through smoke Never spoke about doubt Got everybody through the tunnel Every name accounted for Then locked myself inside When we reached the other door Glass water Clear enough to see Every little fracture Looking back at me Glass water Cold against my hand I can lead a hundred people Still don’t know Where I stand There was a woman on the third car Holding medicine tight Kept asking if her brother Made the second train that night I told her, "We’ll check the records When the signal returns" She nodded like a person Who already knew the words Truth was, I saw his name On the platform screen Status marked missing Where the green should’ve been I could’ve told her there Could’ve broken the lie But hope was all she carried And the tunnel was five miles So I gave her a task Said, "Count everyone here" Turned grief into numbers Because numbers don’t fear She counted ninety-seven Then counted once more Kept saying ninety-eight Like he might walk through the door That memory stayed quiet Till the room went still Till a glass on a table Made the whole night real That’s the problem with water When there’s nothing mixed in You can see straight through it To whatever you did Glass water Clear enough to see Every little fracture Looking back at me Glass water Cold against my hand I can lead a hundred people Still don’t know Where I stand I used to think strength Meant never spilling Never stopping Never asking anyone To hold the weight But a sealed glass Still breaks It just breaks quietly Morning came gray through the wired-glass pane Radio woke up with another missing name I reached for the coat, reached for the map Then saw my reflection in the water looking back Not a saint Not a captain Not the voice in control Just a tired man Using motion to avoid being whole I thought every road lied Because it never let me leave Maybe roads only move Maybe I supplied the deceit Thought the prize machine owned us Because it measured what we’d give Maybe I kept volunteering Every private part to live Thought Tomorrowline made me When I pulled that lever down But the people moved together I just said it out loud So I picked up the glass Felt the cold hit my teeth Let the water reach the places I kept underneath No miracle happened No choir, no light The room stayed small And the day stayed white But my hand stopped shaking For a second or two And I finally said his name The one I never told you Malik Glass water Clear enough to see Every little fracture Doesn’t have to bury me Glass water Cold against my hand I can carry other people And still admit I cannot stand Glass water Nothing left to hide I drank what I could And let the rest Stay beside me Clarity doesn’t heal you It just stops helping you lie
