Should I be worried about something?
I stood by the bed and everyone cried, I held his hand and felt nothing
Quite literally since my grandpa was dead
But also because there might be something wrong inside of my head
I observed the time and told the nurse who walked in the room
One week later he was in a tomb
More like a six foot box in a wall
Flowers and a name as a rememberance is all
We visit occasionally my parents and I
An empty flower vase greets us each time
I take one from Dorothy's box right next door
Her family doesn't visit her anymore
But her flowers are there everytime that we go
So I move them around, it's not like she knows
My mother cries and my father stands strong letting one or two tears hit the ground
But I stand there and read names of strangers all around
Leaving behind people like my parents who mourn and remember
And granddaughters like me who don't cry and whatever
My mom calls it being strong for the family and says I'm okay
I think she's in denial of my lack of display
But alas a tear fell in fourth grade
I recall, putting my cat down at such a young age
Made me realize that death is a gateway to nothing
But leaving behind family that struggles with living
So I just won't show it anymore I determined when we left the vet place
I walk right by death and I don't leave a trace
He could knock on my door and I'd take him by the hand
Show him the bed and where to stand
Just like I stood during my grandpa's last day
He can stare at me and wonder looking on
Is there something wrong with this human?
I find myself thinking that I know it all, but I still am left asking
Should I be worried about something? Is it okay to feel nothing?

As I know, you didn't ask any questions
Besides sending me regards,
But that doesn't mean there are no questions to be asked

Checking in
to weigh in
the weight
of years
waiting
to burn
off

Stay
right here
where you are
so close to me
questions, questions
those you keep asking
Why?
let it be
a surprise
a beautiful one indeed
let’s
Not dive so deep into the sea
as the night is still
so, so young

Please do not ask me
about why I cannot give,
or in what ways I feel unable
to start over.

I've told you before,
I've told you so many countless times,
that I cannot feel anymore,
and when I do,
it rests in a porous place in my head,
not my soul,
and I refuse
to pretend I could love another
fully,
so please,
do not ask me again.

I've told you before,
I cannot bring my heart to a pulse,
much less trust
anyone, not even myself,
with that responsibility.

I know better than to pretend
I am capable of romance,
and no sorts of pressures
will allow me to breathe easy at night;
I already have so much trouble
letting things go.

want to travel like Jesus
God knows I found it ‘s alright to ask for it all
want to travel like him
Remarkable sunlight, weird songs delight
They say, you don’t know what you’re asking for
I say, what’s it to you
A traveling, I’m a traveling that
found it’s alright to ask
for it all

Whatever you ask,
I can’t help but say yes.
You wouldn’t understand if I told you.
You wouldn’t feel the same way I do.
So I cover it up,
hoping you won’t notice.
For once
Let me say,
“No.”