My soul is a weight, pulling me down

I haven't told anyone any of this. For some reason, I feel like you guys would understand.

I don't have any pictures to share. Frankly, I haven't had the time.

I buried a loved one on Sunday. I've gotten a total of ten hours of sleep since. I've dealt with sorrow before - my aunt dying last year, the ending of dozens of my relationships, the death of my kitty, the divorce of my parents and the resulting loss of my dog, the inescapable and constant knowledge that every single guy I've ever had feelings for is straight...

But this... grief is above sorrow. It's seeing people I look up to - strong men and women - bawling like babies. But I had no time to grieve. I wore black, I cried with them throughout the all day service, I cursed myself... then went straight to school only to return late at night. Then did that again, and again, and again, and tomorrow, and Friday...

Going to school every day, then cross country, then print nights... I don't know if I can. I think I'm too weak. To open every miserable sleep-deprived day with AP Calculus, followed by AP Lit then AP Economics... I haven't been doing my homework. Not the usual turn it in BSed for credit. Just not doing it. There are classes I have 89% in (4 out of my 5 classes - the only exception being Journalism) but I just don't care. I don't try. I'm going to stay up until 5 again tonight - under the pretense of having homework to complete - but I won't complete it. I'll sleep for an hour then go to school where my teachers scold me and my friends call me a cranky bitch. I can't blame them...



It's not real until you see the corpse lying there
Until you see something that is yet isn't the girl you knew
Until you hear the tears in the voices of the beloved
Until you feel the chins quivering, holding back the flood
It's unavoidable, this chain reaction of sorrow.

Your face in your hands, you shake with agony
The black blood drips out your face - it is without value
It leaks and pours and drains...
But peace, sunlight - nay, the most microscopic measurement
The slightest trace of recovery, of joy, does not come...

It's not the end.

The clock keeps ticking, the pastor talking, your thoughts wandering
It leaks and pours and drains...
Your eyes burn as if soap is lodged inside them
Your head throbs as if you've lost blood
That blood was precious.

With pride, you say, "I've done a lot!
Hell, I carried the casket - with the father, with the brother!
I put together the slideshow - I stayed up all night!
She came to me and I gave her my bed - I gave her a home!"

You've done nothing.
Companionship was what she needed
You abandoned her.
Understanding was what she needed
You shunned her.
Brilliance was what she was
You'll never fathom it.

Throw a rose on the casket with everyone else - yours was pink
Stand with the nameless others - adorned in black
Gaze as the doves are released - they fly like spirits
Watch as she descends into the earth
She rots because of you.