The road softens when you travel light.
The miles traversed has a way of stripping down
Sweat and spirit
Until you’re left with only what’s needed.
But I am held captive
While sifting through our wreckage.
I am at a loss,
Still weighing the ghost of your hand.
Are you the anchor?
Or am I just a sinking ship?
I reach for the straps,
Stalled between the grip and the release.
Because to this day,
You are still the heaviest thing I carry.