The Weight I Can’t Escape
I feel like I’m being strangled
by something no one can see—
not hands, not ropes,
just this invisible heaviness pressing down
from the inside out.
It’s like I’m buried beneath my own thoughts,
my body pinned under something I can’t name.
Every breath feels borrowed,
every heartbeat feels like work.
I try to move,
but even lifting my arms
feels like asking the earth to let me go.
There’s this pressure sitting on my chest,
thick as regret,
silent as fear.
I tell myself it’s just another wave,
that I’ve survived worse storms,
but it doesn’t feel like survival—
it feels like waiting underwater,
counting seconds,
hoping the air will forgive me
and come back.
No one sees the fight it takes
to keep breathing
when your own lungs feel like a cage.
No one hears the small screams
inside quiet rooms.
Still, I whisper to myself:
hold on.
Maybe tomorrow the weight will shift.
Maybe I’ll wake
and it won’t hurt to exist inside this skin.
Maybe I’ll find the strength
to stand up again—
to push the heaviness off my body
and breathe like I was meant to.
Until then, I’m still here,
beneath it all,
fighting for light,
one breath at a time.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
