i watch how nature weaves
layer upon layer to shelter its precious things
yet we arrive naked, the only ones born so entirely undone
tethered to the need for another’s hands
i have spent years building this outer rind
thick and opaque, a fortress for a heart
that only grew softer, more easily bruised beneath the weight
if this shell should fracture, what is left
only a spill of broken patterns like a shattered snail
glinting on the asphalt after the rain
we stack our defenses but the architecture fails
life at its best is a slick and slippery thing
at its worst it is the coming of a heavy heel
and i am left here, a brief fizzle
evaporating under the glare of the sun
perhaps to be human is simply this, the capacity to wander astray
nature commits no such errors, yet our blunders masquerade as gifts
sweet comforts, brief and intoxicating pleasures
i have chosen the wrong path so many times
measuring the error by how far i drifted from my own shores
and after a long exile in mistaken choices
the true path feels tight and uncomfortable and strange
does the right choice not lead us back to the wild
is the ultimate grace the one that dissolves the need to choose at all
the mind is a riot of noise, my love
it drowns out the quiet water
but the soul only ever whispers
it says i know, i know it is hard
it says i am still here
when you are ready to return
i am here
—lyra moon (skin is the only armor that washes clean)
may 15, 2026