the things that we carry

I’ve been lugging around a ton of rocks.

The boulders settle solidly in my stomach and my heart,
the smaller stones weigh down my cheeks
making it impossible to smile,
and pebbles grind together under my eyes,
blocking tears that are desperate to fall;

All I can think to do
is tear myself apart
digging with cracked fingernails
through muscle and organs and sinew
until the last offensive chip of stone
lies in a bloody puddle on the floor
and I am wholly bared, naked and free.