Change the Laws of Gravity

Vera Veil

We were out on the water,
the wood was splitting,
Cold black water
rising through the floor.

I patched every crack,
I bailed every bucket,
Pulled against the current,
trying to reach the shore.

I was the engine,
rowing through the darkness,
Pulling both our weight
for all those years.

I thought I was only
a darker shade of gray
Because I'd never seen myself
Standing in the light.

Then the dawn broke—
And the contrast was stark.

Collaborate or dominate—
You'd never take an oar.
My empathy was the anchor
That held me to your side.
I thought if I stopped pulling
We would both go down.

The water kept rising,
And I stopped to catch my breath.
Looked across the deck
And finally saw what I'd missed:
You knew how to stop the sinking.
You just chose to let it come.

Then I saw your hands—
Not reaching for an oar,
But tearing out the patches
As fast as I could seal.

I was killing myself
To keep us both afloat.
You weren't trapped here with me.
You were sinking the boat.

Collaborate or dominate—
You'd never take an oar.
My empathy was the anchor.
But I was always free to let it go.

Let the water take the boat.
I'm not going down with you.
I'm not bailing us out anymore.
I'm done pretending we're fine.

I thought survival meant
Row harder.
Love deeper.
Stay longer.
Carry more.

I thought letting go
Was the same as giving up.

But maybe gravity was only
A law I never questioned—

The belief that if the boat went down,
It meant I hadn't pulled hard enough.

The boat is going down...
But I'm not swimming after it.

I changed the laws of gravity.
I'm rising past your reach.

I changed the laws of gravity.
The dawn is here.
And I realized—

I have wings.

The same arms that rowed
Are lifting me now.

You can call my leaving anything you like.
But you cannot make me disappear
Just because you never learned to see me.

I will not.
Let you.
Erase me.