Pressure

It builds, like the fastest construction team,
It rises, like an ardent soldier through the ranks,
It grows, like an adolescent on a spurt,
It weighs on you, like a blood-stained murder,
It swallows you whole, like The Whale did Jonah,
It saps your joy, like the darkest rain cloud,
It eats at your soul, like a hungry child to dinner,
It comes from out of nowhere, like the most praised football tackler,
It sucks out your lifeforce, like a vacuum made of hate,
It paralyzes you, as if you are Christopher Reeves,
And it,
it,
it,
can only be removed, by a man on a tree.
Then, and only then does
It transform into faith,
transform into righteousness,
melt, like butter on toast,
and only then
Are you free to be
You.