drowned to life
WRITTEN BY YUN-FEI WANG
september night, hours frozen i
drown my reflection in a lake
without rippling the black surface
for i have run out of escapes.
my reflection floats into a curse with
no human heart weighing it down. the
face of a mannequin
disappears as soon as i blink.
my skin peels off in liquid dreams.
step into the void, and i knew i had
drowned the wrong reflection but i
have run out of escapees.
i fold into the lake, the underside
of my conscience is scraped.
shredded lungs, spilling cold ink
but i am breathing for the first
time.
the waters were knocked-over pallets
stolen paints from northern skies.
open my throat, dishevel in silence i
run out of escapes and into life.
my body casts no shadow in the water
for the lake held hostage, tightly the
color of your colorless eyes and i am
drowning without metaphor.
The 2am writer that lives in the mind of sixteen-year-old Yun-Fei Wang has been taking over her sanity for a few years now, tearing her lifeline down, yet building up an escapism in the same breath. Find her in the evanescence of black-inked words, or at @rainofelsewhere on Instagram.