THE WEIGHT OF BEING

By Siti Atqiya

Life is not always light,

sometimes it arrives as a shadow,

stretching endlessly behind us,

uninvited, yet inseparable.

We chase dreams with trembling hands,

forgetting that dreams, too,

can grow teeth,

and bite into the fragile flesh of hope.

They say, be strong,

but they do not hear

the silence that screams inside a smile,

the quiet breaking of a heart

that learns to collapse in silence.

Reality is a paradox

we long for freedom,

yet are shackled by expectations

of family, of strangers,

of the restless self that never sleeps.

There are nights when breath feels hollow,

and the question burns,

“Am I truly living, 

or merely surviving the hours?”

Perhaps meaning is not found in answers,

but in the courage

to walk despite the weight,

to breathe despite the ache,

to rise, even when broken.

For life is not victory,

but persistence to stand amid ruins,

to face the fracture,

and whisper to the darkness

“I am still here. I am still alive.”

Purwokerto, September 26th 2025