atlas's lament

i think i am ready to set down this 
sky, because my shoulders are 
creaking like gears splitting and 
i have grown up in a box and a
box-shaped skeleton is not the 
right shape for my heart to take. 

the sky is too heavy for me. 
i admit that. here, i finally 
admit that, so will you take it 
away? please? 

the world collapses into itself 
like a black hole, or the childhood 
crumpled into paper, or my 
mother's stained-glass smile, 
and let it, i'd let it, just for one 
fucking moment to be nothing. 

please. 

please.

i am so tired.