Kaya
I feel as if I'm drifting atop a still river, the calm water ringing faintly in my ears as my body melts into the liquid embrace, becoming completely weightless.
From time to time, a low humming reverberates in my head, sharp and insistent, pulling me into the awareness of my own existence—only to fade again, leaving me adrift in this aimless float that offers nothing but pure, unbroken serenity.
So I float. I let the darkness swallow me whole, granting my heavy heart the relief it craves.
Empty. I want to feel hollow. I want nothing to matter to me anymore.
"I think that's enough sleeping, baby doll."
The voice crashes into my stillness like a meteor shower, striking the surface around me in violent bursts. I sink instantly—drown without struggle—welcoming the blackness, just as I wished.
But instead of feeling light, I grow heavy. The darkness seeps into me like thick oil, pressing me down, suffocating me beneath the unbearable weight of a world I dread to face.
