Words Sewn Together

I ache,
from carrying the
burden
of your collected
pain.
Pain that you
gather as you fall down
in the door ways
of home after home.
I could
decorate willow
trees,
with trinkets of
sorrow, all
yours, for miles.
Sadness in every colour.
But I sew it all together,
instead, and remind you of the
order. Because lies need
to be remembered, and one day,
when I have woven your words into
all of the doorways, and all of the homes,
and all of the trinkets and all of the sorrows become
so heavy,
that even I
can no longer
carry, or
remember
the order;

then –

I will walk away, and I will have
made sure that you are bound to it all,

and you will no longer be able freely follow me.