I fear my hardening heart

The sun peers through my window,

and gently shakes me awake. 

Another day of the same. 

Seeking always and only 

the joy and the beauty and the goodness

or else I’d go crazy right?

Constantly careening towards grief, I 

try to deny my vincibility

framing my agony in the disparaging language 

of fragility, 

frailty,

forbidding such raw expression from taking hold. 

Because I am more powerful than mourning 

too strong to admit such sorrow, 

too convinced of the evils of the world to surrender myself to my sadness

(for mine seems so trivial in the cosmic scheme of things)

But as I recklessly numb myself

 to the state of my soul I am 

brick 

by 

brick

building up an impenetrable barrier

How long can I maintain this ruse?

Seemingly sufficient but silently screeching, 

shaming myself for my rigidity, 

my denial of my own humanity. 

as if I were somehow better, 

because I blocked out pain

Somehow, I beat being human by 

shutting about all recollection of the one who bore me, 

turning on my family, 

on my mother, 

on myself. 

Forcing myself into forgetfulness another 

brick to the barricade

I do not want to be sad, I wish to feel no pain and know 

less hurt

I don’t want to lug around this grief anymore

A stone the size of my resentment I layer onto the wall. 

Yet this searing aching, gaping hole persists

insisting that I am not God. 

But I resist such evidence of my mortality and 

enlist all my energies as I flee and hide and ride along, 

saying, as others pry, I’m fine

A pile of untruths is cemented onto the increasingly impenetrable fortress

of which I am God

But there are whispers of resistance, 

my lingering humanity attempts to dislodge 

the boulders of impassivity 

towering around me

grace in the form of a grieving friend prods me 

towards my pain. 

She looks me in the eye and asks, 

“honey where does it hurt?”

Emboldened

by her bravery 

I 

embark upon a journey.

As light breaks through my guilt laced walls

and ushers in the truth

I start and I share my 

self-damning thoughts, tears 

streak down my face

eroding my strong barricade

giving hope a chance

Tears are now in both our eyes my sorrow feels so seen

our marred hearts still grieve the ache 

of our missing parents

She helps me see that my power rests in my mourning 

      a mighty mirror of memory

my strength surely lets my sorrow sidle in. 

the evils of the world are daunting but need not 

dismiss my sadness

for my suffering is a part of my story and 

deserves to see the sun

I am not defined by my grief but it 

ebbs 

and 

flows 

with time

as I work to tear down these walls I’ve built

between humanness and this 

sweet soul of mine.