I am slowly sinking
into
the side of the sofa
that sighs, and sags
on the left, from the heft,
of my burden, internal;
My heart holds heavy,
and my lungs are tired.
The load,
from my shoulders,
so weighted, it’s a wonder,
I stand upright, still,
but the couch has begun
to cave, and this;
The only external sign
of any weakness.








