My Truth

Your sorrow is my sorrow,
It hurts me every time.
Scolding, harsh, unloving,
I stand beside you, an invisible ghost.
I long for your arms,
but they belong to another.
Holding you up I bend,
break,
shatter.
Overwhelming pressure
I can't stand beside you without hurting
and yet,
I need to,
because if you stand tall, I stand tall,
but if you fall, so do I.