Pressure fills my chest like the sea learned how to breathe inside me Every step pulls downward no surface, no floor, only drag My body remembers something my mind refuses to name Silence weighs more than any scream ever could I hold on to iron that doesn’t hold me It won’t release It won’t break The anchor does not lift it taught me how to stay While everything else was moving I stayed below, learning weight The anchor does not lift it only tells me where I am If I let go, I drown If I hold on, I forget the air I tried to move forward but motion hurt more than standing still Every breath was a negotiation with pain The light isn’t gone it’s just too far to reach And every thought pulls me back into depth I don’t call for help because sound doesn’t reach this far Everything down here is slow and heavy The anchor does not lift it taught me how to stay While everything else was moving I stayed below, learning weight The anchor does not lift it only tells me where I am If I let go, I drown If I hold on, I forget the air Maybe this isn’t the end just the moment before movement Maybe weight doesn’t kill it forces me to feel But tonight I rest against the metal and let the sea be heavier than me The anchor does not lift but it does not lie It says: this is where you break and this is where you survive The anchor does not lift and still, I breathe If I ever let go it will be by my own weight
