I

want to cry.
Tears clog my throat.
I have no reason to.
You are not mine.

I want to hold
and be held.
No one is here.
My arms are empty,
reflecting the nothingness
of my soul.

I want to understand and
be understood.
Outside the circle of support
I stand
unsupported.

I don't belong to you
nor you to me.

I cannot hold your hand
as you walk this road.

I walk behind, not beside.
Catching scraps of comfort,
futilely reaching
to tuck coins of comfort
into your pocket.

Who will hold me?
Who will let me cry?
Who will restock me?

I cannot move beyond this grief, this rage,
if sharing is not allowed me.