Cruel, human weight which I am forced bear Not stock, not stone, not loaded on my back No, I feel you, the blood, the bones, the flesh A pressure; of heat, of light, of dark behind my eyes The same dark with a tenuous, frayed-rope link To the sodden, monotone pumping in my chest Always at odds, always across the fields Kept apart by trenches deep Thus the whistle blows Regret, guilt, sent over to trip on corpses Storming creases, wave after wave To flood the calcified cup, the seat of myself Notions, perceptions of events that once were They are no longer, so why dwell? Why linger on such things, such leaden notions? Regardless, their eternal conflict goes on A conflict where I am the only casualty Night, after, night Perhaps that is what weighs me so? Like concrete boots pulling me under Not the blood, bone and flesh But the war raging betwixt head and heart To shed it, to let go of it Would that freedom have a price? Could I bury the me that is? In favour of what... The me I could be? What if the weight is all that I am? N-no... I deserve to carry it, for a while lon- No WELL THE GATE'S LOCKED, THE CELL'S CLO- NO! Webbed cracks span the wall Scent of rain soon to pour Wind tickles my salt-soaked cheeks Just a little more...
AJ Carney 