What Doesn't Fall by GenJi скачать в хорошем качестве

What Doesn't Fall by GenJi

WHAT DOESN’T FALL I came down to the water heavy in my bones, Like I’d been holding up a life I never named, Didn’t come asking, didn’t come brave or forgiven, Just tired of standing upright inside my own weight. I had the years in my shoulders, the want in my chest, Every almost and maybe still ringing in me, I didn’t know if I was giving up or laying down, I just knew my body was done pretending to be light. So I laid myself back where the dark turns blue, Where the sky leans low enough to touch the skin, Thought I might disappear if I finally let go, If I stopped holding the shape I’d been living in. But the water stayed quiet, didn’t rush or decide, Didn’t pull me under, didn’t ask me to try, It just held me there, steady as something that knows, Like I’d always belonged to the depth I was in. I thought heaviness meant I was done with this life, Turns out it meant I was ready to be held for a while, I stopped fighting the fall and the fall stayed slow, Like letting go ain’t losing — it’s learning where to float. There’s movement inside of stillness if you stay, A drifting that happens when you quit the fight, Every hard year, every stone that I carried, Taught my body a truth my mind couldn’t arrive at. The weight didn’t break me, it shaped where I rest, Like water learning the curve of my spine, Turns out what’s dense doesn’t always go down, Sometimes it’s what keeps you lifted in time. I thought heaviness meant I was done with this road, Turns out it meant I was ready to finally let go, I quit mistaking the weight for the end of the line, And the water showed me what had been holding me all this time. If this is baptism, let it be slow and intentional, No clean slate, no sudden afterglow, Just a woman learning what stays afloat in her body, When you stop mistaking the weight for the end of the road. The stars are always falling through endless space, Held by a force they never have to name, If they can trust the dark to carry their fire, Maybe I don’t have to brace against my own gravity. I thought heaviness meant I was done with the climb, Turns out it meant I was ready to lie back and trust the sky, I’m not going under, I’m not being pulled apart, I’m just learning how heavy light can be on a heart. I’m still here, I’m still me, Just floating where the water lets me be, Full of weight, full of breath, Held in motion, held in rest.