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I don't know
where it came from,
but its flooding me
with emotion.
It hurts
like hell.
I was
fine, but, now,
I am not.
I just want to
or I do start crying.
No one
knows why
or what
I'm going through.
No one
knows what
I'm feeling.
No one
knows why
I lay
awake at night
and can't sleep.
No one
knows what's
lurking deep
within me.
No one
knows that
I'm not ready
to come out
of it either
because I'm
not past
the healing
of this pain.
I don't know
what to say
to anyone
because I don't know
who cares,
if anyone.
I don't know
who's listening
and who's not.
I don't know
what people
think or feel
for me
because I'm not
them, they are.
I don't know
where to go
with this turmoil
inside except for
my poetry.
I should probably
not only write this,
but tell someone
what's eating me
alive inside,
but I can't
bring myself to.
I can't
bring myself
to expose
what's deep within
my soul and being.
I can't
bring myself
to be vulnerable and weak.
I can't
bring myself
to share
what I truly
am feeling and thinking
right now.
I can't
bring myself
to be fully honest
with anyone
on this because
it's hard to be
honest with myself.
It's hard
to admit
the pain
hasn't relinquished
since '98
when my cousin
died
that day.
It's hard
to admit
that I'm still
not whole.
It's hard
to admit
that I still
cry and mourn
with tears and poetry.
It's hard to admit
that he's with me
in spirit,
but what I yearn
for is more.
What I yearn for
is to touch
and smell
his soft skin
in a warm
hug that I waited
my whole life
for and never got.
It's hard
to admit
that I didn't
realize I loved him
until it was too late.
It's hard
to admit
that I yearn
to talk
to him still.
It's hard
to admit
that I want him
to console me
and protect me still.
It's hard
to admit
that over the years
it hasn't
gotten any easier.
It's hard
to admit
that I still
reach for his hand
or a hug
for an embrace
and he's not here...
he's dead.
It's so hard
to admit
all of this because
it cuts
so deep
and this is
what's
ripping me
in two.