Tear Today was a good day
- I thought I was actually happy
- I thought for once that I'd be ok
I was hyper; I had energy;
I was ecstatic.
You held me and
the world was right.
But I left you
because you asked me to
and I went home;
The instant I stepped through the door,
my happy mood abandoned me
and my eyes itched
with unfallen tears,
their weight pressing down upon me,
causing my ribs to crack.
My lonely blue walls
creep towards me,
focused on stealing happy thoughts.
I want out.
I need to get away.
But where can I go
when home is too familiar
and everywhere else
is too strange and foreign?
I discovered that I
lost your pen
and a dry tear
burned a path down my cheek.
My body yearns to sob;
I heave my shoulders to the sound of a lullaby,
curled arond myself
to cry more empty emotions,
protect mysel from my words.
I tell myself
that I'm only being
and that there's no point-
there's no one here but me.
I am subtle, I am told.
It is only because I repress myself.
I don't want to be subtle anymore
if this is what subtle is-
if I am what subtle is.
I want an outburst.
I need an outlet.
I discovered just how much
you mean to me
and realised
I am frightened.
I never cared so much before.
The dust bunnies know my secret
- this secret -
and blackmail me with it.
They've seen the scars
my tear has left
upon moist paper.
They know.
I thought today was a happy day.
Maybe it was.
But night has fallen since,
I am alone,
and the tear has evaporated.