"Do you need a tissue hun?"

No. I don't cry at funerals.

"She seems a little cold, her own mother and she hasn't shed a tear."

No. I don't cry at funerals.

"It's okay to cry darlin'."

No. Idont cry at funerals.

"You are being so brave."

No. I don't cry at funerals

"Where are you going?"

"I don't cry at funerals, daddy."

And he understands.

He understands as I quickly run down the street to the gas station, my chest tight in pain not from running.

No that wouldn't hurt like this.

And as i make it to the bathroom and lock the door, I finally cry. I don't cry at funerals where everyone is watching,

Waiting for the sad gossip for the next morning

Of the motherless girl having a breakdown.

But here? All alone? I don't just cry,

I sob until I can't breathe.

Then I wash my face,

Fix my make up

And leave with a small fake smile at everyone watching.

None of them knowing,

That I am empty.