This heavy weight on my chest hands on my shoulders pulling me down. This extreme gravity, defying lift.
This body, this flesh, is rejecting the spirit. I am weighted and ridged. This clothing to the soul does not match or fit correctly. It rubs and chaffs, bunched in the wrong places. What used to be the favorite sweater and jeans has turned too stretched to worn. This smock faded, too brittle with use.
I am waiting for change crave it like an addiction that shiny glint
I feel disassociated, disconnected. Shakespeare-ish, this lead balloon, this heavy lightness*. This body is an extension of me, not mine, not me. Remove this binding from my chest, let me breathe.
I feel like I should treat this body like glass. pamper and polish, long showers with lazy days, comfort foods and extra sleep. I feel like I should treat this body like a machine. Push and stress it to extremes. exercise, eat small healthy meals. Push myself to the brink to see if I can.
One voice says yes, one voice says no.
I am waiting for a change crave it like an addiction that shiny glint
Risking that increase in pressure and pain for that chance of release. This ruff life, this brawling world. Too young to be old and too old to be young, I straddle the line of age and accomplishment.
Childlike yet not. How can a person keep their innocence and not the childish arrogance and whining. Keep that joyous ability to embrace the day without the selfishness.
I am waiting for change crave it like an addiction that shiny glint Pushing up the mountain that shivers and moves.