you want to know why i have that feeling
like my stomach will explode?
because i carry every bit of you around,
every secret and habit and quirk.
i carry your eyes and your sneakers.
i carry your mouth.
i can feel it.

when i begin to talk,
it's your voice that i hear.
one person isn't big enough to contain the feelings of two.
i always thought i wasn't big enough
to carry my own feelings around,
not without spilling them on the ground
or onto paper or into you.
i seem so small now, compared to your mass.

it's too much for me, of course.
i can't hold all of us inside.
something, eventually, will have to give.
but only eventually.
eventually is not now.
it's not even soon.

maybe i'm hoping that when our eventually comes,
you'll have returned to claim your baggage.
you'll lift it up through my mouth and sigh,
and i'll sigh, and my belly will retract.
your cheeks will fill out again.
i will let go of your secrets and remember mine.

i'm not your pack animal,
not intentionally.
i tried to take away your worry
but i only succeeded in carrying you like a fetus.
now i'm waiting for the day you choose to be born