BAGGAGE

We met online, the air was light; the conversation lighter
He couldn’t see the bags that almost buried me
Too anxious to meet, we texted for months
Told him that something was weighing me down;
it was restricting my path to him.

Occasionally, I would look at the bags wondering if
I had the courage to leave them but my mind resisted;
it didn’t want to be free.

These bags have been packed and unpacked
Every garment inside has been worn and re-worn
Sorted again to see if the load could be lightened
Still, they weighed heavily on my shoulders

Nothing inside fit but I still remember when they did…perfectly
The stories played again and again in my head, with added drama;
the good times were great and the sad times were heartbreaking.

The day that he knocked on the door, I was trying on the dress that
I wore the last time that I loved myself
In the midst of anxiety, fear, and despair, I threw all my bags at his feet.
They were so heavy that he couldn’t walk away
“I’m going to help you with these,” he said.

He dumped them all in the trash as I sat and cried
The pain that kept me warm was gone
As he took the final bag to the trash,
I opened the blinds and a glimmer of hope set in.

Author of The Heart & Soul of Black Women & Island Mindfulness. Amplifying the voices of women @www.JanetAutherine.com. IG:@JanetAutherine

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Janet Autherine

Janet Autherine

Author of The Heart & Soul of Black Women & Island Mindfulness. Amplifying the voices of women @www.JanetAutherine.com. IG:@JanetAutherine

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