I feel the weight Before I know the word Something presses But doesn’t ask to be named The ground is thin It answers when I breathe Not breaking Just listening I walk on shapes I cannot see They hold, but never promise Every step remembers Something I forgot My hands know where I shouldn’t touch Still they hover close There is depth Where I was taught there wasn’t I don’t ask what’s underneath I don’t ask I don’t ask But it answers anyway I’m only scratching the surface Not to see Just to feel If this holds If this breaks If this knows my name I’m only scratching the surface And it’s already too close Something moves when I stay still Like a thought without a shape It doesn’t chase me It waits I feel older than my voice Younger than my fear There is no edge But I keep reaching for one If I look too hard It might harden If I listen It might speak So I hover So I stall I’m only scratching the surface Trying not to tear the skin Every answer feels heavier Than the question I was in I’m only scratching the surface And the surface feels alive If I go deeper I lose the sound of my own steps If I stay here I feel it breathing I don’t want the truth I want the warning I don’t want the fall I want the leaning Stay thin Stay gentle Don’t open yet Let me feel Without knowing What this is I’m still scratching the surface Not to break Not to leave Just to know If this tremble Is part of me I’m still scratching the surface And it answers when I breathe It holds For now
