I forget
that I’m not part of you any more.
I remember
when I see the girl you
replaced me with.

She is me, but vivacious,
loud, vibrant;
she is the me without her insecurities on her sleeve,
a me who knows better than to
share all of herself with just you.

Your shoulders, like mine,
are too weak to carry my burden,
but unlike me you can drop them and
move on to share your
‘troubles’ in inverted commas because they’re not troubles,
they’re just minor concerns,
and I’m stuck here with mine
and yours and.

I can feel my shoulders shaking
and bones breaking
under the weight but
I will not stumble or surrender.
It is my duty to carry on despite it,
my life’s work is
to carry these troubles and hold them to myself,
not sharing but
occasionally leaning on others
until they too prove too weak
to take me on.

I must bear my burdens alone.

I am forgotten.


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