when i wake up,
i just immediately feel a heavy weight,
upon my chest, and my shoulders,
and it holds me down.
no, not gravity, something else.
the weight of my troubles, and heartache,
the weight of my parents voice,
arguing about their marriage, and the bills, and their dying daughter.
the same weight from the people,
i let slip through my careless fingers,
i thought i'd become lighter when they left,
but i only sank deeper within myself.
the weight given to me by the strangers,
i smile to everyday,
because they don't know a thing about me.
we may talk, and laugh, and sit through silent moments together, but you don't know
the conflict inside of me.
of course, on some days, i feel weightless.
on the days i save my heart for.
whether it be when the sun shines, or when the rain pours down, hitting the earth.
i feel weightless.
weightless when i am surrounded by caring people, listening to old music, after just previously finishing hours of arguing.
weightless when i am at peace,
even for just a moment.
weightless when i grow closer to the strangers i make smile everyday.
weightless when for once,
just once,
i finally feel like i'm not dying.
although yes, you may see the bags underneath my eyes from :
countless,
lonely,
heartbreaking,
and cold
sleepless nights—
you may notice the the tear stains,
puffy eyes,
shaking hands,
bruised and weak,
and lost voice
from my father—
you may sense the feeling of abandonment, guilt, and hurt inside me from :
ones who have left,
the ones i pushed away,
the ones who pushed me away,
and most importantly,
my own mistakes—
you may hear the stinging, God awful words, that echo in my ears into yours from :
my family
myself
the ones who's words i value the most—
you may listen to my story,
see my wide smile,
and bright eyes
though you may hear my voice break,
and my breathing becoming irregular
or my high pitched laugh
two seconds after hearing my choked sobs
you can almost taste all the bitter,
gag worthy,
medicine, antibiotics, and supplements
i have to push down everyday
fighting for my life
almost taste
the blood, i lose
so many times throughout the week—
—almost feel the thing killing me inside
you may feel my hand squeeze hard onto yours,
you not knowing that i feel safe with you,
that you crack this hard outer membrane i've build around myself,
that my thoughts suddenly become clearer—
when i slowly start breathing normally again,
against your chest
or gradually tighter my arms get wrapped around you, happy you're here
and although the weight is still there on weightless days,
still lingers,
still attached—
i wonder if i take the weight off of someone else,
and if i do,
i'd be more than willing to carry their weight as well.
