The truth is sometimes I just feel too heavy for this world.
I am too much of a deep thinker to ever experience ignorant bliss. I am too cynical to not look for the other shoe.
I’ve tried to go on with what I think I want but I always find a way to sabotage any true glimpse of happiness.
I knock down my metaphorical blocks and then get back to work creating another unsteady tower.
Never taking any real time to survey the destruction of the last attempt.
Or the unstable foundation that I’m doomed to build again.
And I can’t help but feel cheated.
Life was never advertised like this.
No one ever told me how lonely living could be.
How the mind although beautiful is really just a gold plated cage.
How cold your heart could turn.
How hot your body feels beneath another.
How altogether empty but still nauseatingly full you could feel.
Nobody taught me that.
Nobody said anything.
So I’m here now.
Heavier than the sea.
Maybe even heavier than all the stars up high in the black.
Held down by the promise of what life should be like.
Or could be.
If I didn’t weigh anything at all.