atlas
Atlas, no wonder
You've had so many surgeries -
You carry too much weight on your back
You worry that, under all of the pressure,
You're cracking
That your physique wore away with time
Mortality of a man
Soul of a titan
Shoulders like a god
Let me lay my head on them for eternity
Atlas, man of stone
You are more than just a statue
But I will carve you back into
A work of art again
Take hold of your world
Learn the ridges
What makes her quake
Atlas, Atlas, the world is yours
She goes to sleep every night
With the knowledge
That you will not shrug her off
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I.G. Nichols
I. G. Nichols is a soon-to-be college freshman close to finally pursuing her dream of teaching English. She took up writing poetry in her junior year of high school as a way to cope with mental illness and develop an understanding of her own identity. She now writes on a near-daily basis with subjects such as depression, anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, suicide, love and the healing that comes with it, fear of the future, and a desire for freedom. She enjoys swimming, art, reading, writing, and video games, and desires to one day figure out how to care for succulent plants.
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