One should not spill their tears,
for letting out a part of the soul
leaves one ever more empty.

Our jars are never full;
our child always has to take the top,
the creamy, silky top.

We have to let it smear
and take a bite out of our bodies;
its gums squeeze and pull,
striving for a chew of our skin.

We can't deny it anything at all,
for it throws a temper tantrum,
a testament to its uselessness.

We can't avenge nor claim
what's so rightfully, truthfully ours;
we can't stop it from wanting,
nor can we stop it from ******* us dry.