Heavy

pressure

Functioning off of quiet, dead eyes,
I wish I were genuine, not a bag of lies.
I miss the days when I was a boy out there,
no questions, just bugs tangled in my mossy hair.

Now when I close my eyes to think,
darkness creeps in as they start to leak.
“What’s wrong?” I’d rather give up than speak.
How am I supposed to go on
if this moment is the peak?

I have waited and never complained,
full of built-up emotion, yet somehow drained.
Would you hold my hand
as I try to understand this life?

I wake in a sweat, my thoughts constantly ring,
and still, no one knows my favorite things.
It feels like I’m waiting for some distant chime.

Maybe that’s why I don’t want to be known.
I just want to skip time
and have a family when I’m grown.

To find my son playing in the mud, all messy.
Just one hug would break the levee.

Until then
I’ll keep living,

even though it feels

heavy.