Writers 
I carried the stones
I kept them hidden
long before I knew how much a handful of earth could weigh
The house was quiet
The air was thin
I learned to read the silence before I ever learned to speak
Was I too small for this?
I was
but the shoulders learn to hold what the heart is too afraid to drop
You watched me bend
You let me carry it
and now you ask why I don't look for you in the dark
Proof that I survived
Proof that I stood
Proof that some things only heal when you leave them behind
I carried the names you never said out loud,
The doors that slammed without a sound.
I carried the nights I stayed awake,
Trying to be strong for both our sakes.
No one saw the way my hands shook,
No one read the pain inside the book.
I smiled like nothing was wrong,
While learning how to be alone for so long.
But I set them down, one by one,
Under the rain, under the sun.
I left the stones where they belong,
Not on my back where they were too long.
I am not heavy anymore,
I am not that child on the floor.
I walk light now, I walk free,
The stones stayed β but I left, finally.
