Poem: "Pressure"

poem about breaking under pressure

They built their whole world on the slope of my back,

Then look at me sideways for finding a crack.

"You’re stronger than most," is the salt in the wound,

As the rafters are creaking and winter is tuned.

They pile on the dreams that they failed to achieve,

And use my endurance to help them believe,

That a heart is a gun, a soul is a gear,

And there’s no room for gravity, failure, or fear.

I’m measured in inches and weighed by the ton,

A race with a finish that’s never quite done.

"Just a little bit more," is the mantra they breathe,

While I’m drowning in shadows and struggling to heave.

They don’t see the marrow that’s turning to dust,

Or the hinges of silver all eaten by rust.

They just see a statue that’s meant to be tall,

And they’ve forgotten that even the mountains can fall.

The air is a hammer, the sky is a lead,

And the "potential" they gave me is heavy as dead.

I’m running out of the breath that I need to pretend,

That I’m not just a bridge coming close to its end.

If I’m the foundation, then what happens now,

When the stone starts to shatter and finally bow?

If I can’t be the sun, then I’ll just be the spark

That flickers one time before joining the dark.

So I’ll let the beams snap and I’ll let the roof fall,

To be nothing at all is the loudest of calls.

I am folding my knees and I’m dropping the sky,

And I won't offer reasons or tell them a lie.

Let them scramble for cover in the wreck of their pride,

While I finally rest with the rubble inside.

The weight isn't mine if I’m down on the floor,

And I won't be the pillar they use anymore.