What happens when Atlas drops the sky?
When finally,
You put the weight of the world down,
Willingly & gratefully,
And against everyone’s wishes.
What happens when the hero stops saving them?
When finally,
You decide to save yourself. To put yourself first. To love yourself. Yourself. Yourself.
What happens when the gods, the immortal admit that,
All along,
They were human too,
Not simply copies, anthropomorphic or bleeding ichor or eating nectar and ambrosia.
They were simply flesh and bone and pain and trauma and,
You.
What happens then?
You decide you want to find out.
And so you run,
With reckless abandon.
Never once stopping,
To look behind you.
Yourself.
You only have yourself.
Finally,
Choose yourself.
Atlas. You can put it down.
Rest.
Choose yourself.
Choose peace.
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