Mind {Prose Vol. 2}✔

109th Poem: The Weight of the World

@head-of-lettuce I've been thinking of writing a poem for you for a while now... but I think now is a good time to actually do it, even if you don't read it anytime soon. Gosh, I really do hope everything works out. I'm so sorry this happened and that I couldn't really help you. :( 

I appreciate that you told him not to be mad at me, but... it's okay. Like I said... this isn't about me, it's about you and your wellbeing. It doesn't matter if he gets upset with me because how you're doing matters more.

If he stays mad at me and hates me for it, then that's just how it is. Don't blame yourself, okay? I chose not to tell him when I had plenty of opportunities to. Sure, I don't want him to be mad at me, but like I said when we talked about this before: "if it took some of his frustration or whatever emotions going through him away [..], then..." *shrugs slowly*

Please try to take care of yourself, okay? I just... please know that people care about you and are there for you when you need them. Try to look on the bright side and remember what we've talked about before. Remember, you are THE bad bitch, right? :)

AND ALWAYS REMEMBER - I WILL SLICE THEM HOS WITH MY KATANAS!!! XO

~~

The weight of the world rests on your shoulders,

the endless pounds of hard rock dragging you down,

cutting and tearing away at your skin,

trying to bring you to your end.

Rubble slides off and drops down to your feet,

making you think you can't go on,

your legs tremble,

making you think you'll collapse at any given moment, 

your arms start to shake,

making you think that you won't make it much longer,

your eyes start to water,

making your vision a blurry mess,

your face starts to sweat,

a clear indication of your struggles,

your heart begins to swell;

it feels like it's leaving your chest,

while your mouth opens on its own accord,

but no words come out...

Anxiety kicks in,

pulling you under,

but only for a second because God sends a crack of thunder, 

waking you up from your doubts and worries,

before pulling you in again.

The panic of a thousand men to one million,

all of it in just one body,

your own.

But you see your happiness,

you're so close that you can touch it,

you just have to reach out and grab it.

So you use your wicked strength to move your hands