Analysis of Why Can't I Weep?

Why can’t I weep?
I’d like to.
Fuck, God knows I’d like to.
But I can’t.
I have too many people that depend on me.
So many others to whom my stability is lode-bearing.
As much as I’d like to break down.
To bawl like a newborn babe.
I can’t. I can’t be weak.
Not when I have to be so strong.
They need me.
I wish I could double over and
Let the tears run down my neck.
But even when I’m all alone
I can’t.
I want to drop to my knees and scream,
But I can’t promise myself I’ll get up.
The bottom-line creeps closer.
The children – as much as I’d love some –
Get pushed back another year.
I can’t afford to.
I’d give them everything
But they don’t exist.
They can’t
And I don’t have a way to fight that.
My whole life I’ve fought,
But I can’t fight this.
I can’t grit my teeth past inflation.
I can’t endure authoritarianism.
I hurt.
But I can’t weep.
I feel the tears well in the back of my eyeballs.
I lean in to the pressure
But the tears don’t come.
Why won’t they come?
I want them to flow –
To drain my insecurity and fear.
But they won’t –
And they don’t.
Everything-but-fucking-everything
Is killing me.
So why can’t I weep?