The Load

 

No....

  I am not sure I can carry much of anything 

    right now. 

Not more than what is. 

  My own heart, I'd tied rather to the wagon. 

Dragging behind in the degraded rock and dirt. 

  Only pulp left of it now. 

What I had carried. I had carried for so long. 

  Having now left it on the side of the road. 

Loading my mother, 

  Now in its place. 

I tied my heart up though. 

  Rather not to abandon it, 

But to see the mess it left on the way. 

  To see the damage. 

To be her again. To cut of my own flesh...

  For what they had done to me. 

It wasn't enough...

  What they soured within me. 

Rather needed to see it for myself. 

  Needed to finish the job they rendered incomplete. 

  I rather wanted to watch it grate itself against the scorching earth

Since what use has it been of me. 

  They can have it. 

Carrying her now...

  Half soulless in some infernoed retreat 

I rather walk. Rather walk it off...

  and tune out her babble. 

For this is yet the new assignment...

  Still so devoid of me. 

A sentence,

  I am trying to discover a way to live with. 

A soulless and dry place. A desert. 

  They show up...

But I can carry none more. 

 No more. 

I can hardly...

   Withstand my own weight. 

Gone dark. Gone blank. 

  From what they from me, 

Still conspire to take.