It sits upon me like a lead weight,
Yet today I welcome the pressure.
A harmonic, sailing, across my unblinking eye.
My train of thought reverses itself,
Extrapolating a new dimension from all around me.
Comfort in the unknown.
I can't breathe today.
My thoughts are an ocean,
Yet my mind is beached and landlocked,
And the sands are shifting below.
Hollow and old like a dead tree,
Can I even hold my own weight anymore?
It felt like it did years ago,
But hindsight's 20/20 and I can't see shit.
A multiple of itself in my head begins to form again,
And I'd watch it dance into the sunset,
If it wasn't taking me with it.
By Ben Jones
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