Have you ever been sat on by sadness?
I'll tell you now it's not as comedic as it sounds.
I am being sat on
by ceaseless weight centred on my chest.
It is built of everything I have made of your words.
It is built of everything I have made of your lack of words.
It is made up of what was once inside of me,
that now sits outside of me.
It has the weight of a small child
and the solidity of a rock.
It sits on my chest and moves the blood to my head
and the air through my lungs.
It squeezes its toxic weight into every single one of my cells.
It wants to come back in,
Because apparently it doesn't like the outside world much either.