You can’t see it, you can only look at it.
You can’t listen to it, you can only hear it.
You can’t feel it, you can only touch it.
The kind you didn’t know you had.
Like being 11 and holding up your sobbing 19 y/o Brother,
as y’all walk past your beloved Uncle,
as he lies in a cream colored casket.
Because he was our irreplaceable best friend.
He we’ll never be able to see,
or sing again.
That day my brother cried tears
courage wasn’t even strong enough to hold up.
Or that kind where
your Sister is being rolled past you,
but you can’t cry because you have to hold up
your two friends.
One on both arms,
as their courage lies in the crease of elbows.
But what about me?
Courage always gives me the job
of holding up others.
But when is courage
going to send someone,
to hold me up?
Like I mean
My tears weigh too.
the 17 caskets,
I’ve seen lowered into the ground.
the million butterflies,
who used their beautiful wings,
to dry my tears.
And more than
The amount of times,
i cried while writing this poem.
But courage is also
me sharing this poem with you.
Because courage doesn’t mean
I’m not scared.
I continued to share this poem with you,
even though I was scared.