I wear all black
My eyeliner is sharp as a knife
My laughter is melodic and has a nice sound
I’ve never been kissed
And I hate the ache over something I shouldn’t be able to miss...

My tongue is silver and seems to have a mind of its own
My lips change color depending on my mood: red, taupe, black, purple, blue;
I love to cuddle and receive hugs
It may seem ridiculous to you, love,
But you’ve had it all
Yes, from the very start.

I don’t want to be called a crybaby
Not for the connotation it receives
So instead I build walls around my heart
I bristle and joke
Despite the ache in my chest
For I know that I cannot be strong forever.

I only hope you won’t be around when I break, love.
I don’t want you to see me fall apart at the seams.
You deserve to know the best of me
For the worst is hard to understand.

Please don’t cry for me, love
I am not broken yet
I can still spit fire from my lips and utter curses from my tongue
I remain steadfast in this prickly facade
Because if I don’t, I cannot say what you will do.

So I refuse to be a crybaby
No matter how many times it hurts to see you with someone new
I have wept over you enough, love
So now I must harden against the world
Before I become utterly undone.

I will not be your crybaby
Even though you only care when I’m nearly falling apart
You thrive off of other’s suffering, so that you may be their knight in shining converse
You seek those in need, you prey on the weak...
I don’t want to be just another conquest
Just another score
I wanted something else, love
With you, I’ve always wanted more.

Guess what, love?
I’m not your crybaby
I will die before you will know
Exactly what it is that you do
that makes me weak in the knees
For if I were to voice my thoughts, you would roll your eyes and mock...

I hate that you make me your little *****
That you make me want to bawl my eyes out when you come in with hickeys that have no name
You’re. Not. Mine.
You’re just a stupid *******
So why do you make me your crybaby?
I hate this feeling of weakness whenever you’re near
I used to be such a ******* badass
But here I am, buried under five blankets,
Hoping my roommate doesn’t hear me as I cry my eyes out,
Forevermore, over you.

I usually hate
putting the word I
when writing
because
I don't like writing for me

but on few occasions
when inspired by music
frustration
and tears
and Melanie Martinez blasting in the back

I don't care
if my heart is too big
My eyes
I have no control over
and I'm tired
of being ridiculed
because of my tears

I show my families lies
and try to make them see
That crybaby
is not longer part of me

but in my room
on some time late in night
the faucet in my eyes from melanies song

can't take anymore.

And so I cry
So what if I'm a crybaby?