Nov 08

The Art of Crying

Tears sting her rosy cheeks. 
She sniffles and wipes away
the river flowing out of her
beautiful brown eyes. Huddled
up in a ball, trying to dissapear
from this world of hate and
jealousy. The bathroom tiles
scattered with stars that
could no longer shine in her
eyes. Hugging her knees to
her chest. Her dark hair 
surrounding her face and
hiding her from the hateful
thoughts of the world. Short
choppy breaths escape her
trembling lips. No where to
run in this world of hate. She
cries and cries because of
the things she cannot change.
Rain drops falling on her ripped
jeans. She cannot stop this 
hurricane, it's not her choice.
The hurtful words, the painful
rumors, they decide when it's 
time to stop. So for now, she 
just keeps letting the tears fall

          and fall
                and fall
                      and fall.​
                                            Until there is nothing left but a broken soul