Poem #31: Atlas

Do you ever feel listless

like the weight of the world

has momentarily lifted

and you feel like you’re floating away.

With every breath

every puff blows you back

and you reach out a hand

but there is nothing to hold on to

and so you spin like a star

or a deflating balloon

without course

or direction.

I reckon you could hover forever

suspended in space

and though you are lonely

you start to feel free and calm

without the worries that come

with adulthood or the responsibilities that come

with having friends.

And then just like that

suddenly gravity kicks in

and you are hurtling towards the ground,

a scream building in your throat.

You slam into concrete

forcing the air from your lungs and

you cannot feel your legs beneath you.

“Help…”

it is barely more than a whisper

before you become Atlas,

bearer of the world on your thin shoulders.

You feel broken,

you feel stuck

in this vast plain that offers

no solace for your wicked soul

that aches for forgiveness.

Someday you think you will crumple

as a flower under a stone

spilling pink juices and fragrant scents.

Already you can feel

your will to live waning.

But my dear,

please hold on

just for a minute longer

because you will feel that sunshine again.