never meant to be atlas
never willingly carried the world
on my shoulders
never wished
to be weighed down
by anything
but that candy you liked
–pecans wrapped around
caramel and brown sugar fudge–
weighs on me
wrigley’s double mint gum
always always in your jaw
even while you smoked
your favorite cigarettes
stain my fingers
linger in my hair
and my shirt
even your horrible taste
in music
your delight in department
store nachos with plastic
looking cheese
your willingness to
eat anything
and then diet for weeks
your utter obsession with
keeping secrets
so many
that you emptied out
and filled the house
with things and piles
of things
some days
the world seems like
a lighter weight to bear
Words and Feathers 