Weak

Today someone told me that I was strong because I wasn’t close to you. I’m flabbergasted I don’t understand Did they want me to cry on the streets? To throw all inhibition. To run? To hide? To stop living? To stop existing? I’m only strong because I have littler ones behind me I’m only strong because there’s a grace that surrounds me I’m only strong because it’s still unreal. Still too much to think about. I’m only strong because nobody hears me cry at night. Nobody listens in on the conversations in my head. Nobody knows the visions, like a broken record, playing over and over and over while I try to sleep. I’m only strong because I choose to fight myself in empty halls and dusty buildings. I’m only strong because now I have to live a life; fulfill a dream that I once was too tired to carry on with. It hurts. That’s there’s too much to say and no way to say it. That I feel, intensely and completely, but there’s no way to relieve it. To interpret it. To run away from it. I’ll still be strong. In the ways that I know how to.