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.

 

It's strength...

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,

hug, 

hear talk

or sing again. 

That day my brother cried tears 

that 

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.

More than 

the 17 caskets,

I’ve seen lowered into the ground.

More than 

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.

It means

I continued to share this poem with you,

even though I was scared.