I never notice when the weight is lifted
But I do know when it drops
A crushing force to my porous corpse
All my insides are flattened and I can see myself from the sky
I keep expecting my whole life to be laid out
So I can catalogue the backlog of reasons to not exist
I will make assertions about my character that I struggle to shake
Like black cats in ant hills
My ears ringing deaf to self validation and grace
My body torn asunder under the pressure of empty standards

There is a cold embrace
That I must face
A desire to live and be well
That I must now quell

I simply can not escape this forest
For this dolt is just a tourist
A disruptive visitor
Looking for something simpler

Good riddance to dreams
They only ever tore at my seams
Pulling me away my stability
And reminding me of all the fear still in me