My palms know the pressure
My breath knows the count
One more inch from the floor
One more second without falling down

There’s a bend in the doorframe
I pretend I don’t see
Like the house isn’t leaning
On the quiet in me
I keep both hands open
Till the skin turns white
Smile through the shaking
Say I slept alright
But the beam above my shoulder
Has been low for days
And I’m tired of calling strain
Another kind of faith

I don’t need a rescue
I need room to say
This weighs more than I let on
Can you stand this way?

Hold up the heavy
Hold it here with me
I can keep my breathing
If you help me breathe
I’m not made of marble
I’m not built from stone
Hold up the heavy
Till I don’t hold it alone

There are marks in my fingers
From a shape I can’t name
There’s a laugh in my pocket
I keep wearing for pain
Everybody keeps asking
How I carry it still
Like carrying means healing
Like silence means will
But my knees know the answer
When the kitchen goes dim
And the weight of the missing
Starts pushing again

Hold up the heavy
Hold it here with me
I can keep my breathing
If you help me breathe
I’m not made of marble
I’m not built from stone
Hold up the heavy
Till I don’t hold it alone

Maybe needing a hand
Isn’t losing the fight
Maybe saying it hurts
Is the first honest sign
Put your shoulder right here
Where the whole room bends
If I let you come closer
It doesn’t mean I end

Hold up the heavy
Hold it here with me
I can keep my breathing
If you help me breathe
I’m not made of marble
I’m not built from stone
Hold up the heavy
Now I won’t hold it alone

Both hands under the weight
One breath
Then the room lets go