night prayer in a rented room

borrow the dark
borrow the salt spilling from my eyes
when you can no longer remember
which name belonged to you

scratch a doorway into the wall with a fingernail
and step through

take my trembling hands
take the slow burn living in my ribs
take the untainted years
before i learned the exact art of breaking things

scratch a doorway into the wall with a fingernail
and step through

take the stillness sitting in this cold chair
and pretend it was a life
lay it flat across the room
to see if it still bleeds

scratch a doorway into the wall with a fingernail
and step through

take the dying blue light pooling in the alleyway
and teach it how to weep
drag the shivering soul out from your coat
and force it to stand upright

scratch a doorway into the wall with a fingernail
and step through

take my terror
take the last breath resting in my lungs
press it into the mouth
of this empty glass

scratch a doorway into the wall with a fingernail
and step through

take my bitterness
and the shattered teeth left inside my mouth
fashion them into whatever weapon
keeps you alive tonight

scratch a doorway into the wall with a fingernail
and step through

take the final softness i carried in my chest
take the light leaving the window pane
take the mother who loved me before i disappeared
take the child who never made it out

scratch a doorway into the wall with a fingernail
and step through

scratch the doorway one last time
i am stepping inside

—lyra moon (a key carved from the lock itself)
July 25, 2026