why is it
when the sky is dark, heavy
holding onto every ounce
of moisture it can
just before its fingers
are too exhausted to hold on anymore

when the air is thick, dense
with the weight of the world
resting itself on our chests
and burdening our shoulders
underneath its pressure
that I feel lighter?

my head feels clear
and everything inside of me
which once seemed a mystery
is suddenly unveiled
in a beautiful, crystalline way

perhaps it’s because
when I look inward
at my own atmosphere
I see the fog
I see the clouds

a constant waiting game
to open the floodgates
that reside under my eyelashes
and cleanse my core
of all the things
weighing me down

The rain knows
only how to fall heavily,
and still remains beautiful

But I know only the
loneliness of December

It is heavy—
the burden you carry.
Suffocating—
inside, you’re aching.
Will decreases—
you’re ready to shatter to pieces.

Yet, there’s fire.
Your eyes blaze with anger, desire.
Feel it burning—
all its power, deep, twisting and turning.
Let it out, then—
and escape from the weight of the burden.

I can feel myself drifting
The white noise so loud
It blurries my already hazy vision
I don't know where I'm going
I'm not sure if I'm scared anymore
Or if I'm just tired of it all
My body feels so heavy
I don't know how it moves anymore
I'm so angry at me
Why cant I get off of my drifting sea
I don't know

“It hurts,”
she says.
As she struggles to stand in the morning, because her heart is so heavy with pain she feels she will never heal.
“It’s heavy,”
she cries.
As she tries desperately to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders by herself, because she has no one to turn to.
“It’s hard,”
she whispers.
As the last of her hope crawls out of her body leaving a lifeless shape of a woman that they once knew.