Hidden Identity

​Grief untouched can be a hidden identity
I am lost in this world, with this hole deep inside of me.
Eighteen years alive, and eighteen years dead
Where would I be now, all these thoughts in my head.
I came out to you, on that trip up to Maine
At 16 years old, I had felt some shame.
How would you take it, I did not know
But just as you asked it, you accepted it so.
You died three days later, Taylor just turned two
She is 20 now and she reminds me of you.
You cared for others, you defended them with pride
When someone was hurt, you stood by their side.
We miss you, we love you, in our memories you will be
We wish you were here, big sister, together we make three.
I hope where you are, you are with Kristen
A sister, a granddaughter, a niece, and a cousin
She died as an infant, a cousin we did not get to greet
But tell her that her mom loves her dearly, and one day we all will meet.
Grief untouched can be a hidden identity
And is one that I acknowledge, just like you acknowledged me.