Dead Weight

You try to carry me on your back,
But I’m getting blood on your crisp white shirt.
I’m sorry that because of the wounds in my head
I can no longer walk so you have to do it for me.
You wipe the sweat from your brow,
And I can tell that you are tired.
Is it the hot sun that makes you sweat
Or is it this burden you carry on your back?
I grit my teeth because I told you to let go a long time ago,
But you said forever while I whispered “You’re a fool.”
You smiled and assured me,
Your eyes were filled with the hope that used to accompany your grin.
Your eyes are vacant now.
I’m so sorry I stole your light because I wanted some.
I was being greedy and getting tired of the darkness,
But now it is no longer my blood on my hands.
I see the crimson sign of betrayal escape the soles of your tired feet.
I see it mix with your sweat and your tears flowing down the side of your face.
I see it escape your internal hell,
As if it too was getting tired of the darkness.
Did I make you this way?
I whisper again,
Quietly,
In your ear,
“Let me go. I am now just dead weight.”