What do you carry in that heart?

What do you carry in that heart?

What is it that weighs you down? Why can you only smile so wide, and why is every laugh touched by sadness? Why do you sigh like that, and why do your shoulders drop when you hear bad news, and why can you move on so quickly, as if you were expecting it all to fail anyway?

You carry the weight of the world, and you carry the worlds of other people, and you carry the worlds of the people you no longer are.

We can only handle so much sadness until we crack; we can only find the answers to questions we understand. You take on the pain of other people and lock it away safely for them until one day your soul is clogged with anguish that you can’t even locate. You ignore your own pain and push it deep inside you to make room for others, for the new you that you’re desperate to maintain, and it gets lost behind boxes that don’t even have your name on them. How do you rip something out of you if you can’t even find it? It’s as if something has died behind the walls, under the floorboards, and nothing of it remains but the bad smell it leaves behind. And you find that everywhere. It lingers on your clothes, in your hair, and it threatens to drive away everything you love. It eats away at your strength and it fogs everything in front of you; all you want to do is run away from it and keep running, and you can’t stand still to appreciate what you have in front of you because you’re embarrassed. If you stand still long enough, they’ll see you for what you are.

You let your heart stay broken because you’re tired of fixing it. When you are so congested with sadness, it becomes difficult to see your own problems with the clear vision meant for you. It becomes difficult to see beauty, it becomes difficult to accept the happiness that is being handed to you on a silver plate wrapped in ribbon, begging for you to take it. You go through life with weight you never needed to hold, you are perpetually distracted and you are always a single step away from falling into the deepest depths of despair. How do you know who you really are if you’re made up of everybody else? How do you get rid of dead weight without looking inside yourself?

How will you ever fix your soul unless you stop running away?

Now Playing: Weight of the World – Young Guns