Atlas (a metaphor)

I am not broken. I refuse to break.

I stand underneath a world of bullshit, like Atlas, my arms aching and my knees bending…but I don’t break. My muscles they strain and they tear…but they heal stronger.  I heal stronger.

I am strong, steadfast and constant. My gaze does’t waver, it meets my enemies’ eyes. My arms may tremble but they do not drop.

And my mind provides the soundtrack for this feat.  The ticking of a clock- the counting down until my legs can bend, my arms can arch, and I can throw this poisonous orb as far away as fucking possible.

Until then, I wait and I hold.


I sit at a table surrounded by people unapologetic of their personalities, their vices, their position in life….I look from face to face and my heart is so, so full with love and admiration for these people I have the privilege of calling my friends.  These kind hearted, good fucking people.  I hold the keys to this kingdom in my hand.  I hold the ability to let you in…to give you entrance to this elite club.

But you are a poison.  You poison every friendship you touch.  I’m feverish and sick from the malevolent liquid that courses through my body.  I heave and expel the lies, the deceit and the betrayal and I am temporarily healed- but your sickness is stronger than me. It clouds my head, it aches my heart, and instead of finding comfort in the safety blanket of our friendship, I am wrapped up in a spindly web woven of thorns.   It chokes me and I can’t breathe…I start to suffocate.

But my hands claw at the fibers that wrap around my neck.  Chocking, sputtering,, I’m free again and you…you promise to lose your poison.  To let the blood from your veins and replace it with all the light around you.

You always fool me.  You are a shape shifter.

But your eyes are your tell. They blacken when you’re near me.  Your face darkens and you steal my light.

The evil inside of you is winning and I watch helplessly as you complete your transformation to what I’ve tried so long to hold at bay.

You are a monster.