I wore sunglasses
to my grandparents’ funeral
and couldn’t take them off.
I couldn’t cry
in front of people.
Couldn’t translate
what I felt
into words that behaved.
I couldn’t sit
in a room full of grief
and perform composure.
So I sat in the car.
My mother tried
to bring me out.
She was grieving too.
She didn’t force me.
Someone else did.
She opened the door
and told me to stop
acting like a child.
To stop being selfish.
To go inside
and show up.
I stayed where I was.
