These losses are never my own,
stuck inside the hands of someone else.

but I am always the person to uncover them-
make a facade out of the remains
I am always the chosen one.

and when that is the case
what am I supposed to feel now?

bereavement is not a luxury I have ever owned-
it has always been stuck in the mouths of others.

so what do I say when grief gets in the way
of my ability to empathize.

what happens when I am too broken up
to put into words
the way I would like to dropkick
this world
in the nuts
and walk the **** away.

the deeper I travel inside of my own head
the harder these things get.

it was his,
they were theirs,
she was hers
and his
and it's
and never mine.

This sorrow is never only mine
because the weight is more heavy
upon those who have lifted this burden.

every single thing
in life makes an impact.

and I have always been
the airbag.