I sat

in the dark.

Into the corner,

cowered.

Shaken, trembled.

Tears danced and slid,

into the creases of my face.

The tears had that salty aroma and tang,

that reminded me when you squeezed lemon slices

in my eyes and poured salt over the pus.

I didn’t mind then and I still don’t.

My eyes weren’t as red then.

I wasn't alone then.