i clutch them to my chest as i walk
each breath constricted by their downward push,
their pressure unforgiving.
i’ve picked them up along the way, clearing the path for others.
my arms tremble under their weight,
some are small, others tower over me,
obstructing my vision,
blocking the sun.

the ground shudders with each step.
the weight of my world disrupting peace.
interrupting silence.

“i can help”

“let me lighten the load”

but i cannot give them up.
they are balanced too precariously,
piled on top of one another with reckless abandon.
teetering with suspense, threatening to spill,
eager to drag me down with them.
and if i were to fall, how would i pick them up again?

my world is not meant for others, i will not let it scatter,
littering the universe, a space that isn’t mine.
they belong to me, they are mine.
i clutch them closer, and continue.



f.h.