I am pressing on into something better I hope

Life is short and I'll be unable to witness any fruits

But maybe for a brief moment there will be no labor

And I can breathe in deeply a calming stillness

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