The Things They Carried
Slightly removed and extroverted Margot Young carried her head, and held it high. In her head, she carried her thoughts and her burdens and every intangible object in between. Mostly, she carried her friends. Her friends carried tarnished boots and soft pens and books that in turn, carried too many words. Periwinkle carried a tan bag because Burgundy carried a black one and they both carried the unwieldy pressure of unrelenting similarity. Beige carried a sketchbook and the untruth of silence. Forest carried her music and an impatience for the ending. Orchid carried a warm over-shirt and a cold overflow of blood pounding in her arteries. They all carried scrapes and bruises and smiles and shredded jeans.
The things they carried, they carried with them always.
They carried the unfulfilled promises of youth and ink dripping down their wrists. When the things they carried grew too heavy, they carried each other until the sun came up. They carried a general distrust of cloudless skies and the shadows that dragged on their heels. Onyx carried a touch of electricity and an extra wish in case he finally decided to run away. If the world ended tomorrow, they would all carry holes in their hearts and the desire for salvation, without saying a word.
The things they carried, they will carry to oblivion.
They carried dreams of better lives, battle plans, and ways to survive the coming war. Forest carried indecision so as to never be trapped. Burgundy carried consciousness, so that she would always be smarter. Orchid carried an extra sword, just in case. Periwinkle carried her innocence. It would keep the monsoon at bay. Onyx carried an undying love with little hope that it would ever light the way. Beige carried an unending mind to bring her to the new world.
The things they carried would never carry them.