I come with suitcases. Most people do. Mine are full of words and wounds, and that time he said it wouldn’t work. When I never once considered it was him not me that was broken.
I’ve been carrying this for years. All that heavy. Maybe I could put the contents at your feet some day? All the damaged things, and how they’ll look little in the light, because half of what I carried never really belonged to me.
His baggage weighed me down for years – but I’m lighter than air, you’ll see. Was. Will be.
And I’m looking for a safer place to land.
time for letting go …