What am I supposed to do when I'm okay but you're not?
What am I supposed to do when sorrow has given me a break and I can see the sun rising,
but when I turn to pull you forward,
Sorrow is now encompassed in you.
What am I to do when I watch you suffer, cry, become engulfed by sadness by the loss of my child,
a trauma fed with guilt.
What am I to do when I'm trying to plan my future, heal my heart, and solely depend on your support because I'm physically exhausted and consumed with grief.
Who do you turn to? Who is helping you?
What am I supposed to do when I see you struggling, but I have no strength to throw you a life vest.
What am I supposed to do when I want to scream I love you! Thank you! But I can't because of fear and feelings of unworthiness.
What am I to do when I can share a beautiful memory happily, but prefer for you to listen and not speak a word?
What am I supposed to do when I feel selfish and could careless about anyone's feelings but my own?
What am I supposed to do when I can breathe a sigh of relief for just a moments time,
But I notice you are gasping for air?
How do I live? What is life without my son? I can tell you.
I am sad. I'm hurt. There is a void that will never be filled.
What am I supposed to do when I see you are struggling?
What am I supposed to do when they tell me to turn to God,
But all I hear is silence.
What am I supposed to do when I want this pain gone,
and wish to trade places, just to remember what authentic happiness was like.
Please tell me, What am I supposed to do?
