When something hangs heavy over your head,
it isn’t only heavy over your head.
It’s wrapped tightly around your throat
so you can barely breath,
your lungs getting just a cup of the
gallons of air you need.
The weight pushes heavy on your head,
your neck nearly snaps.

Unfortunately, you can breath,
just enough.
The weight is just heavy enough
to not crush your skull,
to not crack your neck.
So you live that almost dead life
until one night, you take command
and the night stays dark forever.
You forget the pressure, the constriction,
and even though you don’t know it,
or anything,
the weight is gone.
It weighs like the air
you might otherwise,
almost,
be breathing.