There are sobs stuck inside of me.
Sobs that I dare not free.
As one sneaks out, it jolts my body
Reminding me when I caged it there
It’s been waiting in that silent darkness where I trapped it with my will
By my need to survive, to seem strong and capable
To move on amongst the pain
To walk along the eggshells of my life.
The sobs stay trapped, inside of me.
Except when they transform into sickness
And work their way out as barf
Or catch me unawares and shake my body in the familiar way that reminds me of snot covered corners, of huddling under the blankets, of being told to stop my bawling…
I did
Now they stay bottled up inside. Deep down inside.
Except when they don’t.
Then, every gasping sob that comes out is coated in shame. Even when I’m mourning on behalf of others.
I cannot mourn my own loss. I must rationalize it away. It was not my loss. My brother in law was sick for so many years. It was a gradual loss. We knew the end would come. It would be welcome. It would finally be that which we dreaded. But it would finally be over. I cannot make the sadness wash over me, my loss. I lost a brother in law who was an awesome big brother to my husband. I can cry for my husband’s loss. I can cry for their parents’ loss. I can cry for my sisters in laws loss, and their brother, for my nephews’ loss of their father. But I cannot cry for me.
No, I cannot cry for me.
elämänpuun lehti 