To want the weight of the sky by Mahita Dissanayake (17, Sri Lanka)

The truth is, 
If I could, 
I’d ask Atlas for his weight 
So that I could 
finally be free 
of mine. 

​I would carry the weight of the sky on my back
​With the cry of the hawk, 
and the wisp of the dream, 
And I would be able to nod and wave, 
And live like the passing breeze. 

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What is the weight of the sky 
To the world, 
This deep earth, 
The rivers 
And bottomless trenches 
I pull and drag with me ? 

What is the weight of 
This diminishing air 
When I drown in the 
Rivers of blood 
Dug by those before me ? 
Decay in my consciousness 
of myself, 
And the past I carry, 
And the unfortunate truth 
That I exist, and this is hereditary. 

I am the hook in the corner of the butchers eye
Carrying the carcass that is a little too alive
And I soldier that guilt alone,
​And drag myself across the floor. 

I carry the scars of my breath on my back, 
Feathered wings, 
once intact, 
Now home to the hooks of deception, 
Dragging with it, 
the burden of existence. 

​So Atlas, 
I beg 
Give me your weight for awhile 
I am more than content to bear the simplicity of just a sky
Where there are no nooks for cracked mirrors to hide.

​Cracks, 
For I’ll never bear myself, 
alone. 
But myself and this weight. 
And with every glance I take, 
It fractures a thousand times 
And so I yearn to throw myself away. 

​At your feet, 
I‘ll carry any load, 
Just something I cannot blame 
To be my own.