shouldering

I’ll pay for the broken car door
not in paper bills
or parking tickets waiting on your curb
but I’ll pay
you’ll see to that, as is your way.
“I’m moving on, I no longer care”?
your bags were packed before I even arrived there.
that’s the funny part
you’d already shielded and reinforced your heart.
no one could move in, because you’d moved out
rent signs like neons signs saying private property
red signs that shout, ‘you’re not mine’
I don’t want to be possessed but I want you to own me
take care of me with as much pride as you put
into shouldering your chip