stay afloat (performance cut)
[slow and steady]
i don’t remember the moment the ground gave way.
just the weight shifting and nothing catching me.
he called me the storm. said i brought this—
as if his silence didn’t howl louder than wind.
[beat]
but it’s me holding breath like it’s currency,
lifting small limbs through brine and grief
while he vanishes clean into the swell.
his footsteps don’t leave mud— just absence.
[shift tone—firm, rising]
so i tread— not just water, but history.
generations of children pressed thin
against waves but never drowned.
my arms ache with names that aren’t mine.
my tongue, a tightrope of truths never spoken.
and still i stay afloat.
[hold pause]
not for peace. not for him.
for them.
for soft heads on tired shoulders.
for lungs too young to understand why the tide bites.
[end, hushed and resolute]
if the ocean forgets us— i won’t.