My Baggage

There’s an ache in my chest and a sick hunger in my stomach.

I don’t know why they come when they do, but I have plenty of reasons for them to stay.

When it feels like it belongs ,why should it ever want to leave?

If my story makes strangers cry, how am I supposed to smile?

And sometimes I like to feel sad. To sit in my sorrow and feel justified in self pity.

And then I want to tell, and I try… but whenever I try to explain what it feels like you want to hear sentences and I’ve got pages.

I’ve got enough baggage to vacation in every country on Earth.

And my extra weight isn’t your fee to pay, you’ve already heavied your bag with my tear stained sweaters and ripped sole shoes.

I walk barefoot now, over the rough concrete using your arm to hold myself up.

But eventually, my story will become too long. And I’ll have chapters to write, but seconds to breathe. And your arm will become heavy and we’ll both….

Fall down.

Advertisements

5 Replies to “My Baggage”

  1. So beautifully written… *thinks other compliments for this fantastic work of art but becomes speechless because the amazingness of this piece* Masterpiece!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Woah! I’m really digging the template/theme of
    this blog. It’s simple, yet effective. A lot
    of times it’s very difficult to get that “perfect balance” between superb usability and visual
    appearance. I must say that you’ve done a awesome job with this.
    Additionally, the blog loads extremely fast for me
    on Opera. Exceptional Blog!

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s