long I have carried this weight tired my arms have grown and weary is my soul my sanity is cracking and everything feels out of controll yet somehow I keep pushing breathing smiling laughing I have been given the burden of life and I will carry it until my dying day and even then I like to think that I will live on in memories.
One step after another. I can’t… I can’t go on. Can’t think Can’t breath Can’t see All I see is black. All I feel is a heavy weight. Cinder blocks tied to my ankles. Why did I do that? How could I hurt them? I tried to apologize To make it better But, It’s too late Things can never be the same. All trust is gone. And for what? I fall. It feels like forever. Falling into this deep dark hole that is my mind. There is no living past this point Life is over I ruined everything. But then… I hear it. Quiet at first. But then louder and louder. A familiar voice. “I’m here. It’s ok. Breath.” I run. As fast as these leaden legs will go towards the voice.
She carried something invisible to the human eye Something that made her shoulders sag a bit more each day Something that made her eyes droopy with tiredness Yet she kept moving on with that thing in her hands Going across mountains and over lakes Never knowing what or where her destination is And she thought “I don’t want to feel like this anymore” And no longer she shall She came to a realization not too long afterwards That this weight wasn’t hers to carry in the first place So now as she crosses mountains She skips with each step Sometimes even jumps high enough to touch the clouds drifting by As for the lakes The currents seem to have a shine on them that she never saw before All beautiful and serene As she starts to notice the little things And take bigger steps The thing in her hands became lighter More tolerable than before And most importantly
the little boy was burdened by the weight that he carried, the full thing that rested on his shoulders, this thing was invisible, and the more he noticed it was there, the heavier it grew, because this weight reminded him of how unhappy he felt, how with every fake smile, or every fake laugh he grew emptier, and that weight grew consuming him up, until one day he picked up a pencil and wrote, he wrote about this weight, about how he felt, and as he wrote, as he let go of the emotions he kept bottled up, he let go of the weight, until he was finally free