Drifting through waves of unspoken words,

each one pulling tighter,

layers of water pressing in,

holding back an echo

too deep for the silence above.

Moving like a shadow beneath the surface,

slipping between tides that never carried,

wondering if anyone could see

what lay beyond the reflection.

Currents feeling endless,

pulling, sinking,

a quiet weight settling in the depths,

whispers lost to the water.

A glimmering current emerged.

Not a tsunami, not a storm,

just steady ripples,

a presence moving closer,

filling the silence without breaking it.

The weight did not disappear.

It softened,

it let light scatter through the water,

and let air return to my lungs,

until nothing needed to be hidden.

And where silence once stretched open and empty,

there is now a place to rise,

to drift without fear,

to be carried—not lost,

but understood.