Is congratulations what you say?
When, after,
what feels like an eternity.
I resent the standards,
I was held to.
Both spoken,
and in whispered conversations, overheard unintentionally.
A knife in my chest,
which I try to cut out by cutting deeper into my organs, but I can’t find the source of the bleeding,
my hands are covered in blood.
I resent,
that no one saw me.
No one
stopped,
Paused,
Head tilted,
At a slight angle.
I’ve always wondered,
if,
I would be able to put it down, the weight of the world:
the sky,
the heavens,
the planets,
And the lurking, hissing realms below. (the hardest realm to hold, I felt the decay begin to seep into my bones instantaneously)
At first it was,
Difficult,
being the first born,
The legacy.
Descended from a land of emperors,
Considered mysterious,
Fetishsised,
An intricate oriental,
puzzle to be solved.
To be conquered and claimed. Of, course a a drug-addled country will be easier to plunder. To rape.
From the moment I was dreamt up,
that was the moment.
The decision,
was made.
My fate ordained.
I was the one who would save them.
the troubles would be finally over,
but they weren’t.
not for me.
It was merely the beginning.
Many years go by,
and I think,
maybe – it might be time,
to put down the load.
Other’s,
hope // dreams // horrors
No longer mine to shoulder.
Despite the permanent grooves carved into my shoulders,
26 years of digging into my skin. Forced to grit my teeth & bear it.
No complaints.
Don’t let them know you’re struggling, suffering, shaking.
Constantly striving to live up to the impossible.
I survive by the skin of my teeth, and decipher, eventually, how
To mimic,
vitality.
Regularity and rules;
my sole source of guidance.
All the while,
kneeling,
the comos,
delicately balanced,
on my shoulders and upper back, forcing me to bow my head & stare at the dirt.
I grieve for the life I might have had.
If someone had knelt next to me,
Not there to share the burden.
There to bear, simply,
To bear witness to my sacrifice,
my heroism in the face of doom.
If I was crafted,
specially,
for this purpose,
why do I not feel pride?
blessed, chose, special?
Instead,
I’m simply,
empty.
With the weight of the world on my shoulders.
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