I listen to their jokes

And I laugh along.

They don’t hear me

I listen to their stories

And smile.

They don’t see me

They listen to music

And I sing along.

They don’t hear me.

But I don’t mind.

I tell a joke and it is met with silence.

I tell a story and it is met with silence.

My heart is heavy

My lips are trembling

My eyes are watering

But they don’t see me.

I am invisible

With my heart heavy

And pressure on my chest,

I stare out the window.

Everything passes by in a blur,

I wish I could be part of the blur.

I wish I could be anywhere else.

There’s two people with me,

But as I sit here strapped to my seat,

I have never felt more alone.

Ever since you left they’ve told me to be strong.

To be strong for her.

Can’t crumble in front of her.

You’re all she has, they say.

You’ve got to be strong.

Hide your pain,

Hide your wounds,

Hide your scars,

She needs you right now.

I know she needs me,

I know I have to be strong.

I hide my pain

My scars

My wounds.

But worst of all,

I shove my sorrow down,

Until I can’t see it anymore.

I’m there for her,

A shoulder to cry on.

But don’t they know you meant the same to me?

Don’t they know I loved you too?

Don’t they know I miss you so?

Don’t they know I need help too?

They tell me to be strong,

And I listen.

But all I want is to be weak.

To sob,

To shout,

To curse the skies for taking you away.

To crumble until I cease to exist.

To cry until it stops hurting.

To nurse the gaping hole you left in my chest.

To hide until the cold dead weight on my chest lifts.

But most of all

I want to bring you back.

Why do I have to be strong?

Why does she have to lean on me?

Who is supposed to be strong for me?

Who can I lean on?

Why did you have to leave?

You know I wasn’t ready.

You were my rock.

My shoulder to cry on.

Now you’re gone

And I have to be everything you were for me for her.

Why do they think it’s okay to burden a child with the weight of an adult?

I knew eventually I’d have to carry my mother,

But 15 is too soon.

I know you had to leave

But why so soon?

Couldn’t you have stayed?

Just a little longer?

The smell of iron surrounds me, I know it is blood.

I feel a hard shell encasing me, I know it is bone.

I can control this blubbery thing, but I can't leave.

I can't damage it because I will feel its pain.

I myself don't feel pain,

but this damned blubbery suit is ailed by the slightest pinch.

The worst part is that I can't live without it.

For we are one and the same.

The sound of shoes squeaking on the floor.

The feel of the bumps when I catch the ball,

The smell of rubber and dust.

The sound of the ball bouncing

up and down between my hand and the floor.

My friends running next to me,

shouting my name.

The elation when our team scores a point.

This is why I love basketball.

The day had been crappy.

My body felt like lead and my soul was even heavier.

My limbs were sore, from what, I don't know.

I looked out the window as I sulked,

and saw a brilliant red with bright orange and mellow yellow.

I felt a smile creep onto my face and a weight lift off my soul.

I could breathe again.

The day had been nice, blue skies and a warm sun.

The evening had been magical,

swirls of purple and bright pink lighting up the sky,

and by the sweet smell of flowers.

But now the bright skies turned to a bruised color

and the smell of decay rose from the earth,

and I returned to the hell of reality.

Short hard breaths,

quavering chin,

watery eyes,

glistening tears,

streaming down.

Wipe them away,

swallow the pain.

Gather your remaining strength.

Don’t speak.

If you speak they’ll know,

they’ll know,

by the quiver in your voice.

I could smell it before I saw it.

The sickly sweet smell that resembled the smell of sweaty armpits.

I walked up to the table and saw it cut into cubes,

the black pearly seeds in the trash.

Mom forced me to try it and I felt the slimy soft texture,

making me want to puke,

for it tasted worse than it smelled.