Lone Weary Traveler

I was born with a heavy mind.
My eyelids could collapse under the weight.
The moment I felt free was caught
between the sun and the sea breeze.
Salt clung to my skin,
trapping sand beneath it.
And under this exterior
of earth, sweat, and flesh
lies a soul
burdened by false futures,
past perceptions,
and the presence of now.
I mourn early the departures of tomorrow.
I hate to see you leave
and dread to watch you go.
Will you come back?
When has anyone ever?
I will merely meet you there.
Under the space between nothing,
I have a room.
I booked it five years ago
when I thought love
was found in bottles.
Nothing ever made it lighter.
It still weighs the same.
So in this, I believe that,
despite everything,
I have only grown stronger.