Who Carries Your WeightMy head bends over my body, andHair sways in front of my faceLike a clock pendulum, back and forth.This hooded head is soakedWith the smell of damp earth;And if I were to sneeze,The wind would close my eyes.***My chest is folded over an empty stomach,Creasing my middle, andStretching shallow skin tighter.Fragile hands retreat into their pockets,Nails dig into palms, balling into fists.The pavement is pumiceTo my exposed heels, a rip in my soleFrom dragging along cold ground.***Moist eyes breathe in the air,Looking alive with the scent of sunless skiesDancing across my face.***The landscape is a sink,Where the rusty faucet drips,Filling dimples in the dented bowl.I am the one who catches, carriesThis falling rain, so everyoneWith a lazy back can watch meAnd be grateful that I'm livingBecause, behind me I pullA wagon filled with their weight.
ExperienceI don't want sleepTo make me forgetWhat you did,Even when youCould almost closeYour eyesIn that instant.I don't want to cryMyself to sleep,Hating you forSomethingThat was alsoEquallyMy fault.I don't want toWake upTomorrow morningAnd have to hopeThat super glueCan holdMy smile on.I don't want to forgetAnythingThat made me say"I'm sorry",Because thatIs what gives meSomething to learn from.
Ever TrulyYou'd have to slit my throat and kill me,Detaching my head from its enabled body,To spill my thoughts and experience my dream world.Only then could you ever truly paintWith all the pigments of my imagination to recreateMy fantasies and bind them in a book to finally read my mind.You'd have to take a saw to my chest and cut me open,Separating skin and bones from my soul,To hear the broken beat and know my heart.Only then could you ever truly seeThe imperfection that is my genetic makeupWhen all you've ever known is my flawlessness.You'd have to crush my hands and smash my fingers,Unbuttoning my joints, keeping these capable palmsFrom my will, never again to get a hold on my thoughts.Only then could you ever truly feelThe empty weight of your hands hanging at your sides,Knowing that mine no longer carry emotion.You'd have to break my legs and unscrew my feet,Leaving me without means of escape, so I could lay on my backForever, searching for lightless points on your po
Weak StreakI discovered it whenI least expected it.I am protected,I've always been.I took a chanceOn breaking this streakOf mine, called "weak".Chicken here,Lacking gusto,But I must goGet rid of my fear.