Apr 2020
I am sure I first cried when I came out of the womb, not emotional crying, that came later.
When I was seven, I’d cry myself to sleep wishing my body was beautiful.
When at the age of eleven I found out my sister had harmed herself, I cried, pleading with her to stop.
When I first harmed myself, I cried, pleading with my brain to take the hurt away.
Sometimes I cry until I fall asleep because what else is there to do?
I turned 15 the day I found out my grandfather had died, and I cried, but I could not shed a tear at the funeral. I think my eyes were too dry by then.
Sometimes I cry over the stupidest things. Like if I turned in an assignment late or if my mother loves me.
I even cried when my girlfriend said she’d always be there for me, and she held me while I did.
I have not yet mastered the art of crying, because my tears always feel like too little too late, or too much too soon.
When I was seven, I’d cry myself to sleep wishing my body was beautiful.
When at the age of eleven I found out my sister had harmed herself, I cried, pleading with her to stop.
When I first harmed myself, I cried, pleading with my brain to take the hurt away.
Sometimes I cry until I fall asleep because what else is there to do?
I turned 15 the day I found out my grandfather had died, and I cried, but I could not shed a tear at the funeral. I think my eyes were too dry by then.
Sometimes I cry over the stupidest things. Like if I turned in an assignment late or if my mother loves me.
I even cried when my girlfriend said she’d always be there for me, and she held me while I did.
I have not yet mastered the art of crying, because my tears always feel like too little too late, or too much too soon.
I always feel self conscious posting anything, but this kind of poem especially makes me feel vulnerable. These are just my thoughts and raw feelings, so I don’t spend as much time on technique, but I hope you enjoy anyway.
