"I Carry"

As a result of The Things They Carried by Tim O' Brien. Engage yourself in it.

I carry myself.
The person I was,
The person I am,
and the person
I strive to become.

I carry my childhood:
a body sprinkled with cuts, bruises, and jagged scars
from playing a bit too roughly.
Getting down and dirty on the soccer field
just like the boys but more.

I carry stuffed animals and dolls
from the endless nights
they were my companions for sleep.
I no longer carry nearly as many
but the ones I do, carry their own unique meaning.

I once carried the ability to climb from my window
down in through my best-friend's when times got
too hard at either of our houses.
I carry a soggy, tear-drenched shoulder
as I'm sure, somewhere, she does too.

I neglected my ability to play hide-and-seek
and man-hunt professionally, therefore
I no longer carry the ability to hide
from view for too long
before someone discovers me.

Somewhere, inside of me, I carry
a broken, invisible child who grew
to be a young adult trying to find
a light for a meaningful, successful life.

I carry frustrations.
Every day in several ways.
And this I can not abandon.

I carry the burden of being
so many different persons to
so many different people.
But I am only one.

I carry the glory along with hardships
it takes to be:
a sister, friend, daughter, sister again, aunt, best-friend, therapist, girl-friend, sister a couple times more, niece, student, waitress, baby-sitter, protector (who also needs to be protected), long-lost best-friend/ex-girlfriend, enemy (I never found out why), and the list unrelentlessly goes on.

I carry all these different people
compacted into a person terrified
of deserting my self in order to fill
the shoes expected of me.
The shoes that walk the path I expect.

With me, I carry the extreme doubt
people around me will be there
for me always, or that I deserve that.
I carry the word deserve like an incurable disease.

Finally, I carry
(or rather they carry me)
a family that has been permanent for over three years now.

As a senior, I carry difficult courses
and am ridiculed for that,
but laugh because people can not see I enjoy them.
I carry a job that makes me unhappy
but is decent and makes me money.

I carry the fear that comes with being
an adult in two months and not enough courage to be one yet.
But quite enough ambition to try.

I carry the ideals of who
I want to see in the future.
I carry the ideas that
I will adopt and never carry children of my own.
Because my adopted children will be my own.
I carry a college-bound student
who lacks any clue as to what to do
with the rest of her life.
But trusts time will show her where to go.

I carry notebooks filled with
unfinished stories, run-on nonsense statements,
questionable quotes, and never-read poems.
All of which are written by the person I was
who made me the person I am today.

I carry pride of every person I ever was
even if they are not entitled to it.
I carry peace even though my mind
is not always at peace with itself.

I carry myself,
the person who brought me here,
and the person I, one day,
will become.