The Things I Carry
The Things I Carry
I carry the blankets that brought me home
Now barely recognizable
I carry the candle of my first baptism
Since long forgotten
I carry the tiny pink bear
From the hospital’s window sill
I carry snapshots of a tiny me
So spirited, but lacking any real cause
I carry the tight squeeze
Of a baby’s first embrace
I carry the stale breath
Of a deteriorating loved one
I carry the poster of a hero
Still standing guard at my door
I carry the laughter
Of family dinners hijacked by dysfunctional love
I carry the scars
Inflicted by the seemingly invincible skier
I carry the words
Imprinted by the passage of two soldiers
I carry the lopsided pots
Pulled between the hands of daughter and dad
I carry the same backpack
Now only two sizes too big
I carry the cry worthy stories of a troubled friendship
Refusing to neither go away nor mend
I carry a scribbled note
The words now float in my head
I carry the advice
Of former teachers never forgotten
I carry a pair of skates
A fallen symbol of happiness
I carry the tearstains
Left by the season that changed everything
I carry heavy eyes
Stricken with too long of nights
I carry my cleats
The last standing solace
I carry the widespread panic
Of what’s to come
I carry an open space
Left by the old, but ready for the new
I carry expectations
Awarded by no one but myself
I carry the frozen fear
Of disappointment and failure
I carry the hand
Of a little girl left to fight her battles alone
I carry my sister’s worry
When mom and dad don’t get along
I carry my sister’s anger
When she surpasses what life is offering
I carry my music
An increasingly frequent escape from reality
I carry a family
That never fails to carry me
I carry questions
From me to me about where the real me went
I carry a smile
For those who need it most
I carry an extra arm
For when a smile isn’t enough and they can’t go on carrying
I carry hope
That I’ll be okay