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

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