Our Stories are Held
Our Stories are Held
Our stories are held
and carried close to our body,
pressed into our chest
like a heavy, brown paper bag.
We hold the handle,
and the bottom,
taking care not to spill out its contents;
not until it’s time.
Yet with time,
the bag becomes heavy.
Sometimes, the bag begins to break down,
wearing thin and ripping at the edges.
The handle starts to fall apart;
the bottom unglues.
It’s time to set it down –
the bag; the story.
Maybe it’s time to throw it away.
Maybe it’s time for a new one.