Poem of week: the bag

Anonymous, Poet

I used that bag on summer days.

Maybe a 5-minute walk to your place.

The rapid thudding of my heart making me nauseous,

My thoughts excitedly starting to race.

 

I used the bag to pack my things

That I thought I’d need

For that day in the soccer field 

Where I’d sit and bleed.

 

I used that bag to carry more

Than I thought I could ever hold before.

Weaving through the halls at school

And through my thoughts that made me a fool.

 

“Where, where, where are you? 

Why can’t I find you? 

You said you’d be here 

to help me through this year 

but you aren’t near

To help with my fear…”

 

I used that bag just as you thought I’d used you:

To carry my things until we dropped it and flew.

Since you’re long gone, though, you never knew

That I…I left that bag behind, too.