WEIGHT

I live in the war of your heart the gunfire of distant lands

I am the doors that remain locked-shut in your ribcage The cage that makes your breath a prison

I have the charm of your younger self the one you are desperate to find

I won’t hurt you

I will only drown your lungs with the stolen rivers of your ancestors I will only stuff your mouth with the stones of children before you

I will only remind you of the home that you fear in your memories The home you were damned of knowing

Only some are destined for greatness in this world Only some are made of golden clay

You were meant to carry the weight of centuries Of bodies buried under the silence