Possibly not a poem

You see,
i don't cry tears,
for loss of him,
i don't cry tears,
for the pain inside,
i don't cry tears,
for all of your pity,
because you see,
i cry these tears,
for being alive,
for not being like him,
dead in the ground like him,
feeling nothing at all like him,
not breathing at all,
like him.
i also cry,
for not being brave,
enough to end it,
because I'm not strong,
enough to take my own life,
yet still not strong enough to live,
to really live my life,
without him,
i am nothing but,
a broken soul,
fading in the distance,
blurred by tears,
distorted by the rain,
illegible,
like a painting,
unfinished in your attic,
or a book,
never opened beside your bed,
i am the wind,
somehow there,
yet invisible,
or the calm,
before the storm,
that no one notices.........

*i don't know*