Sometimes I feel the weight of the world.

Pressing down, squeezing every ounce of air from my lungs.

I breathe heavily,

Chest rising.

Chest falling.

Heart pounding so hard my ribs ache.

The choices, the people, the dread, the disappointment.

I want to leave it all.

I want to run.

But if I run my thoughts run with me.

Keeping pace with me.

Outrunning me.

Beating me.

I am trapped.

Trapped in this skin that doesn’t breathe.

Trapped in this skin that’s suffocating me.

It’s too tight, I try to stretch.

But instead it only restricts me.

Instead of being one, we are two.

My skin and I constantly fighting against each other.

Straight jacketed in my own body.

Prickling up my spine,

Tingling down my arms.

Straining and stretching to get air into my skin.

If only I could shed this skin.

If only I could shake it off.

If only I had skin that fell away as sodium poured over it.

Maybe then I could run without the weight of my skin.

Maybe then I’d be me instead of the skin that I’ve become.

If only.

I could breathe.

I could finally fly the way I’m meant to fly.

If only.

If only I had salt skin.