Your Heavy Heart
Walking up the winded side mountain,
to the waking sun
I carry you on my strong back
"faster! faster!" you order me,
as the sloap gets steep
I am pulling you higher and higher
as you say that you suffer
but I suffer under your weight; you own a heavy heart
My bones,
aching, breaking, buckeling bones
are crumbling under your demand
I exhale quickly; ridding myself of infected breath
I finally reach the top of the cold, snow capped mountain
you jump off of my back as I fall to the ground
on my hands and knees; as if I am your worshiper,
as you stand tall above me
My bones dissolve into dust
my remains are swept into the wind
the ashes of me whirl around your head,
whispering into your ears:
"I helped you! I carried you! I have brought you this gift!"
The wind whisks me away into a stream below
when you retrieve your water
from the stream to quench your thirst
I will run through your veins and repeat:
"I helped you! I carried you! I have brought you this gift!
Where is my gift!?"
I am the ghost that haunts you
I am the blood that courses in your veins,
pumped by your heavy heart,
that I have made lighter.