Apathy is a Blessing, but Eventually You Wonder About Your Humanity

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I make my mother cry
So what kind of person am I?
I feel apathetic to her tears
I can listen to her break down alone
And I feel nothing but empty

I wonder about her method of comfort
Does she drink away her pain like before?
Does she weep into her pillow at night?
Or does she even grieve,
Like I used to because of her?

My smile no longer touches my face
But it is not because of her pain
It is because to end mine
I have started down a lonely road
Where the pressure is ready to crush me

My little sister, my confidant
Empathizes and cries my mother's tears
And I in turn cry for my angel's empathy
But who is there to cry for me,
When my hope pours from my eyes?

I am stretched so far, I have only to break
But I have already broken, the woman who gave birth
The one who gave me life, and is in turn my demise
I make my mother cry
So what kind of person am I?





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