Arrow Rock Literary Journal

“add your clothes to my basket,” i say to them nonchalantly

“i have room.”

my basket is nearly full and it’s slipping from my grasp

but they don’t notice since i told them so calmly

to add their laundry to my basket

and so they lazily dump the stretched-out sweatshirts

and sweat-filled socks to the weight i carried

and i drop the basket for a second

take a deep breath

and lift it again

it’s less laundry for them to do

i can help them

i’ll take the basket to my mom’s house across town and throw them in her old washer

and separate the colors of their clothing so carefully

like only my mother did for mine when i was small

unknowing to them that i’ll cautiously wash their clothing

and fold it delicately to avoid any wrinkles

while i wad my clothes up into balls

and throw them to the bottom of the basket

since i am the only one to do my own laundry anyway

and trudge back with a basket that somehow feels heavier than before

returning their clothes to them, i smile as warm as the freshly dried linen

and turn away, the grin fading

and leave my basket in the corner of my room

clothes gathering up in piles on the floor

colors mixed and fabrics wrinkled

i don’t know what’s clean and what’s dirty anymore

too overwhelmed to sort it and figure out what’s next to wash

to burst into tears when someone stops in my doorway

asking, “do you have clothes you wanna add to my basket?”

because i see their clothes spilling over the edges

their grip slipping on the handles

because such is the purpose of the people pleaser

the caregiver 

who knows not how to fold their own laundry

but offers to do everyone else’s.

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Parker Coyne/Sydney Parker is an English major at Lindenwood University with an emphasis in creative writing and a strong advocate for mental health awareness. She uses the penname “Parker Coyne” when publishing works because it honors both sides of her family in last names used as a gender-neutral pseudonym. This is their first known publication.