I Carry

I carry a fear darker than the darkest nightmare.

I carry fire stronger than the strongest metal.

I carry my cat, Ziva, darker than the night itself.

I carry my dog no tougher you could find.

I carry reality, the brutal truth.

I carry memories of what was and what is and what it will be.

I carry memories for my past, memories of screams, of terror, of death.

I carry memories of blood, of fear so strong, of death so close, of crying laments.

I carry the lives of those that I could’ve helped.

I carry the lives of those that I didn’t help.

I carry the lives of those that I hope I will help.

I carry the scars of my experiences and of my feelings that I never show.

I carry my friends that don’t listen, though I hear them.

I carry my friends that I miss, that I love, and some that are no longer there.

I carry my hopes, my expectations, and my dreams.

I carry my sister who is never there even when she’s here.

I carry my mother’s expectations, hopes, dreams and disappointment of me.

I carry my father’s wishes and dreams, his want to know me but inability to.

I carry a sorrow for my cousins who I never see.

I carry an emptiness in me that may never leave.

I carry a hollowness in my body, in my heart and in the world.

I carry hatred for myself, how I look and feel.

I carry hope, a hope for my writings, a hope for my rhythms and a hope for my life.

I carry a scream for help as piercing as a sword but as soundless as the wind.

I carry a knife I slash with but no one sees my blood flowing, and my life draining.

I carry a sense of invisibility that no one seems to care, that no one seems to see.

I carry a hope that life won’t stay this way.

I carry a hope that one day someone will see me, will hear my cry, and see my blood.

I carry a hope that one-day people will understand me.

I carry a hope for the future. 

I carry a hope that I will forget the shaking, the screams, the cries, and the blood.

I carry a hope that it was worth it, that one day this will all make sense.