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Weightless

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Summary

Weightless is a journey through grief, resilience, and self-discovery. Moving through loss, doubt, and the burdens we carry, the poem explores the moment when pain no longer defines us. It is a reflection on healing, freedom, and the quiet strength found in letting go of what was never ours to hold forever.

Status
Complete
Chapters
1
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
16+

Weightless

I am weightless,

Like a feather torn from autumn’s wing,

a whispered prayer the night still sings,

a drifting spark, a fleeting sight,

a soul suspended in the light.

I am weightless,

not because I’ve never known

the ache of breaking all alone,

not because my heart has spared

the wounds of loving when I cared.

I’ve carried storms beneath my skin,

heard battles rage and wars within,

worn grief like stone around my chest,

and searched for peace but found no rest.

I have counted every scar,

mapped my sorrow like the stars,

held the pieces, sharp and small,

of dreams that shattered in the fall.

I have stood where shadows grow,

where bitter winds refuse to slow,

where every step felt twice as far,

and every hope a distant star.

Yet still I rose.

I rose through nights that seemed unending,

through hearts that broke instead of mending,

through all the voices filled with doubt

that swore my flame would flicker out.

And now—

I am weightless.

The chains I wore have turned to dust,

the fears I fed no longer trust.

The ghosts that haunted every door

don’t hold the keys to me anymore.

The sky unfolds its endless blue,

and suddenly I see it too—

the world is vast, the air is wide,

and I was never meant to hide.

I am weightless,

like moonlight dancing on the sea,

like wild birds crossing endlessly,

like dandelions in the spring

that trust the wind with everything.

I am weightless,

but not empty.

My heart is full of every lesson,

every wound and every blessing.

Every tear I’ve ever cried

still lives somewhere deep inside.

But pain no longer bends my spine,

and fear no longer steals what’s mine.

The things that tried to pull me down

have lost their grip and left the ground.

So let the thunder shake the trees,

let restless oceans churn and heave,

let darkness stretch across the land—

I will not sink.

I have become the morning breeze,

the quiet rustle in the leaves,

the silver thread of dawn’s first light

appearing after endless night.

I am weightless.

Not because life became easy,

not because the road grew kind,

but because I learned that freedom

begins within the mind.

And if I fall, I’ll rise again,

the way the sun returns each day.

For I have learned the secret now:

The heaviest things we carry

are often the things we can let go.

So I open my eyes,

lift my face to the sky,

and become

weightless.

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