Heavy

Sometimes, he felt like his heart was too heavy.
Like,
when he set it down, picking it up again became almost impossible
He wished that it weighed less —
that, like others that he knew, it cost him nothing to put it somewhere
or leave it there,
or get it back again.
Those people with the light hearts:
he thought, how do they do it?
What is it like, to have a chest full of clouds instead of stone?
What is it like, to feel things softly?
Easily?
To cry, without having to feel like your soul has broken?
To love,
to give your heart away, without feeling so light without it that your fear you might float away?
To live, without that cracked, flaking thing in your chest

dragging

every

step

into the ground.
He wished —
but he knew he shouldn’t
because every wish just became another pound
just pulled harder on his heart
just made the pain greater
as his heart crushed and ground everything else he kept inside him
until its weight
became the only thing he felt.