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Come to me with a heavy heart
and I'll show you
how fast
the fall
is
My neurodivergent mind is overwhelmed with pressure, struggling under the weight of the sea.
Yet, amidst the chaos, God reaches down to pull me from the depths and set my spirit free.

-Rhia Clay
guilt and shame
eating to blame
lack of control
lack of tame
the food comes in
the fat puffs out
if only cold turkey
didn’t sound so good right now
how to quit that of which you need to live
Mélissa Jun 10
I wish I was water

Then I could run faster than any thought
And any feeling
In any language

And I could carry any weight
No matter the strength missing
In me

And I could always move forward
As long as there is a shape for me to take
I would take it

If I'm not water
I am a shape
And I could be stuck in one place forever
Laokos May 26
weight.
that’s all I feel now.

the weight of silence.
absence.  
thoughts like boots
stuck in mud up to my knees.

thirteen thousand nights
pounding out of my chest like a riot mob
choking on my life
and staring down twenty thousand more.
****.

the searing void
of an ancient sugared kiss
sends tears down my face
like tiny iron weights—
a silent guillotine.
you’re so far away now.
or maybe I am.

dusting off dreams
like they’re old pictures
and setting them back on the shelf
in this violet desert.
mirage or memory?
who knows.

I’ve become a warm corpse
mumbling “no”
to the tired lives that want to ride me
like an old horse
one limp away from being glue.

who is there to tell?
who the hell would listen?
who’d step foot
onto the interstate of my heart
dodging semis
and roadkill potpourri?

doesn’t matter.
the dreams look clean again.
and that’s enough
to keep the lights on in the cell
for another thousand nights.

so keep that duster handy.
go back to sleep.

these nights are hungry.
and they’re not going to eat themselves.
A Vryghter May 14
“My pen hits paper and I
drop the things that had
fallen onto my shoulders.
I grab a piece and admire,
I lay it under microscope
in the hope
it will quiet my mind.
I push the pen harder,
etching words into paper.
I write about the weight.
It keeps me sane.

If only it lightened the load.”

A.V.
Andrew Mar 25
I never minded the quiet.
The way the walls never asked for anything,
the way the night didn’t need me to speak.
I could sit with my own silence,
breathe in the stillness,
and call it enough.

Then you showed up.
Not loud, not demanding--just there.
And suddenly, the silence wasn’t peaceful,
it was just empty.

I started waiting for your voice
before I even knew I was listening.
I started looking for you in rooms
I knew you wouldn’t be in.

And now, without you,
the quiet feels heavier.
Like it knows what it's missing.
Like it’s waiting, too.
It's Wednesday.
A flicker of nerves runs through me.
What will it say today?
The machine that holds half my worth.

I worked out four times last week.

But you skipped a day—two weeks ago.

I've been eating 1200 calories.

Have you?
What about the late-night snacks at 10 PM?
What about the weekends?

The scale will see.
It won’t lie.

I get on, and immediately, I hate myself.
A 2.5-pound weight gain in 14 days
I want to starve
I want slit my wrists
See if it teaches me a lesson:
Eat less,
Work harder,
Harder,
HARDER

The scale mocks me.
I hate it so much,
But I can’t stop.
It’s an addiction.
Tell me—
What will you show me in seven days?
Will I finally be enough then?
Taylor Allyn Mar 18
I have died a thousand times.


In the silence of rooms where I learned to make myself smaller.
In the hands of men who only held me in the dark.
In the mirror, where I spent years trying to love something I was taught to hate.


I have buried myself in the spaces between other people’s comfort.
Lowered my voice so they wouldn’t flinch.
Made my body easy to leave so no one had to carry the weight of me.


I have been a funeral no one attended.


And yet—
I wake up.
Every day, I wake up.


Breathe in. Breathe out.
Move through a world that never made space for me,
but take up space anyway.


I am not supposed to be here.
I was supposed to break,
supposed to fold,
supposed to be a name they only whispered in past tense.


But here I am.
A mouth that still speaks.
A body that still moves.
A breath that still fills the room.


I have died a thousand times.
And still—


I am here.


And ain’t that something?
Audacity, Still Here, Alive, Weight
Syafie R Mar 14
I am the Pisces, suffocating beneath the weight of my own sorrow.
You watch as I fight against waves that crush the will from my bones,
A fish whose scales are heavy with despair,
Whose heart is a shattered thing, lost in the vast, unforgiving deep.
Each breath I take is a revolt against this abyss,
But each breath is a futile attempt to resist the inevitable.

You call my name, beg me to stay—
But the current is merciless, pulling me into the blackened void.
I swim in circles, drowning in a silence that devours,
As the water fills my lungs with its cold, endless ache.
The world above is a distant, forgotten dream,
One I can no longer reach, no longer want.

I am the Pisces, swallowed whole by my own darkness,
A soul unraveling beneath the surface.
Your hands cannot break the tide,
For I have already surrendered.
It is too late. The ocean has claimed me.
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