I would cry every day if I could

If my daily errands did not possess me;

if my overall happiness did not depend on tranquility,

if your potential sadness at my melancholy wouldn’t hinder me.

I would cry every day if I could,
if you trusted me when I’d tell you it will pass,
and allowed me to feel vulnerable,
given me the unconditional protection of your arms.

I would cry every day if I could,
to feel human and to feel loved,
to feel the shivers of reality,
to bask in the calmness of the passed frivolity.

I would cry every day if I could,
to feel the surge of hopefulness as my last tears dry
to fall asleep letting go of my rumbled sighs,
to wake up in the safety of the sun, so high.