Weight

There’s a heaviness in my spirit

that I cannot shift

a slow, malignant malaise,

seeping treacle-paced

through vein and limb and bone

I am a stone

sinking, titanic, into deep morass

 

There’s a heaviness in my spirit

viscous, like long held grief

formed from nights of silent

mourning and fitful sleep

massive, ungainly,

glacial in size

teetering on an axis of

excruciating pain

 

There’s a heaviness in my spirit

an invisible burden

of sizeable girth

crushing all before it at a slow

relentless pace, creating

a wasted tundra in the once

teeming forest of my soul

 

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