By JAMES GROB
Sometimes they ask me how I feel
And I tell them, I don’t know.
“Are you upset?” they will ask.
I don’t know.
“Does it break your heart?”
“Do you need a shoulder to cry on?”
I don’t know.
“Are you angry?”
“Are you mad?”
“It’s OK to cry,” they’ll say,
“If something makes you sad.”
I know.
“So are you going to cry?”
“Is there something we can do?”
“We understand why you feel that way
“After all that you’ve been through.”
I don’t know, I say
I just don’t know.
And I’m sorry to disappoint them.
It’s not that I don’t want to tell them.
It isn’t that I don’t want their help.
It’s not that I don’t trust them.
It’s not that I’m a fool
Or that I’m being smart
Or arrogant
Or too clever
Or hiding my feelings.
It’s not that I don’t love them.
It’s just that there are some emotions
That there aren’t words for yet.
There are feelings that have never been named.
Is it breaking your heart?
Is it breaking
Your heart?
Is it?
yes, I finally whisper
yes