The weight of all I’ve been carrying is crushing me
stones I’ve put on my own chest
mortared into place with the dross
of lies and failures and regret
pebbles in my shoes
sand in my lungs

Is my struggle my strength?

When I put those stones down
when I go barefoot and no longer wheeze
will I be strong enough to face what comes next?

Or will my no longer blockaded quarry heart wither in the light?