2021-11-17T14:17:28-08:00April 25th, 2012|Musings on life|

I don’t cry at funerals

The despair clogs
in my head
like mud.

I want to crumble
but instead
I stand.

I resort to words,
clumsy and sharp,
the same small sack of words everyone uses
because there is nothing right to say.

I long for the language of tears,
a sinking face that says

you have too much ache
let me take some
I feel it too
you are not alone.

But it is as though I am wearing
an emotional life-jacket.

I cannot seem to drown.

I look quiet
but inside I am thrashing.

So please know
that some of us cry backwards,
our insides
with grief.

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