Feels like we could break

We are all weak-knee asses stumbling
Under the weight strapped on our narrow backs
Braying in protest but still taking steps

Forward. The sky feels too oppressive 
As though it had reached out a long finger
To press down on us the same cruel way we do
Upon a line of scurrying ant trail. Too much! 
The weight is too much I am bending like a sapling
My soft spine rearranging itself to stay humble.
Not daring to look ahead for the end out of sight
For that will bring the sky crashing down.

Red and sharp like the cavern of a lion’s yawn
I feel the pain bleeding down my shoulders. 
I must be growing as lopsided as a watermelon
In a cage, feeing the pressure on my side 
Threatening to burst all ripe and gory flesh. 

A voice in my head is hurting me and telling me
It feels like we could break.