Stress on the summit is sometimes a rock heavy enough to not roll downward even by the application of periodic high-intensity forces.

           © SPRIHA KANT

The world's small eyes bare down like heavy gold,
On whomsoever seeks their glazed dim gaze.

the cigarette smoke
laden in the air
threw the pattern seeking portion of my brain
and i saw you
as free as i had always thought of you
without the hardships of this harsh reality
it made me sad
to think of you
with how you were at the end
but you're happy now,
with hope

He sat at the edge of the Earth, and night after night, the moon told
secrets to his mocking blue eyes, secrets that no one else could ever, ever begin to understand.

i have butterflies
every single one unique in its own way
beautiful delicate wings
with intricate patterns and a variety of colors

each individually carved from stone
by the anxious claws that embed themselves into my skin

i focus on those butterflies
if only to distract me
from my thoughts in my head
from my tingling fingers turning numb
from my pounding heart
and from the air that is no longer in my lungs

i focus on those butterflies
on the way their rough wings scrape along the inside of my stomach
their screams from being crushed by those sharpened claws
and the heavy
sickening feeling
they leave behind

The lava that flowed down her eyes from the bottom of her soul,
Hardened to formed various shades of rough igneous rocks...

With a heart of stone she consoled herself:
"Only does he floats momentarily in this passing time like debris in the great ocean of my consciousness...
For in another time, sooner or later he would touch rock bottom...
Erasing all the paths he made in the great currents of my mind."

Still
Soul

I don't know when it happened but it just started getting heavier

Getting up
     it could take days
Going back to sleep
     it could take years
Putting away my phone
    it could take forever

And do you also think gravity is getting on me? Doing its best to make
                      everything
                 so
        ****
heavy

As if I should be punished for wanting to stay up in the clouds
                everywhere I go
                                         everything I do

As if I should not get any release
As if I should have learned that I must not escape to pink skies and air
As if I should have gotten used to loving grey ceilings, asphalt and wind just as much

As if there wasn't anything else to long for
As if this should be it
As if this actually is it.