Crying is shown as a sign of weakness
In fact, it is the total opposite of that
It is a gateway to be true to yourself
It expresses thoughts that should not be contained
The salty droplets of your eyes contain feelings that wait to drop off your cheek
My eyes water up from time to time
A million images race through my head creating a stream of rushing emotion that is building up at the dam of reluctance
A song, a movie, a loss, a love, a goodbye, a regret, a food, a fear, an experience, a thought, a drive down the road, a girl
It is unable to be stopped and the waterfall expels out of my eyes
Crying should not be feared, but accepted
It shows care and love
It helps me deal with pain
As disgusting as some may view it
I find it to be absolutely beautiful

i remember those times
of sitting in my bed
wondering when the fighting would ever stop
and trying to figure out what was just smashed
i would fill my pillows with water
and i would fill my papers with thoughts
wishing my family was calm
wishing my family was happy
i remember tearing up pages out of my journal
out of frustration
because i wrote about a fight i had with my mom
and i didn't want it to linger any longer

i remember the biggest fight
i screamed and i cried
i remember hearing my dads stomping getting louder and louder
further up the stairs
my brother screamed no
and he came rushing behind
my door slammed open
and quickly slammed shut
my brother still rushing up the stairs
as my brother heard my dads hand hit my face
he stormed in as well
and thats when it happened
thats when my brother hit my dad
thats when my dad hit my brother
again
and it was like a scene in a movie
although i saw it in parts
and heard the whole thing
my dad is strong
and my brother was too
but not quite as strong as our father
but anger does something
and as my dads back was pushed inside the wall
the house went silent

i remember packing my bags
and calling my friends
i was more than welcome to stay with them
i had my own room
i had my own space
my own mind
my own life
and i left
but i came back shortly
fear does something

i remember sitting by my moms coffin
thinking "what now"
thinking "why her"
i remember not knowing anyone who came
but smiling and greeting them as if id known them for years
all black clothes
that didn't fit quite right
but never wanted to take off
that meant my life without my mom beside me would begin
and i was too scared to start that part of my life

i remember school
going back after she died
teachers treated me like the damsel
the weird one
the scared one
"that one"
i was an orphan with a father
and i was suddenly popular at school
death does something

i remember crying
and wishing i was dead
wishing my body stopped functioning
wishing i didn't wake up in the morning
wishing i was murdered so i didn't have to do it myself
so that my father wouldn't curse at my dead body

i remember those times
and i don't ever want to forget them
because those memories made me who i am today
and i am happy
finally

have you ever cried upside down?
felt the tears stream up your face
down with gravity
and into all the wrong places?

felt the droplets, cooling as they race away from their mirrored origin,
slide over furrowed brow
across forehead and temple to dampen the sliver-thin hairs—
the ones that glow when lit from behind
—and rest where skin meets strand?

no
you have not felt these things
how could you have?
your world is always right side up.

my heart
cries over
you at night

"Micro-organisms are the most powerful force known to man.

Everything relies on these tiny creatures,

And even us, the giants of the climates-

Are subject to a cold wind of a virus."

-

Micro-

Economica,

Control every activation-

Watch the electronics-

Spawn and stuff,

Primordial goo is gruff.

-

Enough fist-i-cuffs

It's rough.

-

Every expression, hides a smaller organism

Smiling and fizzling.

-

Micro-organisms,

We are controlled every hour.

We are the wretches...

-

Half smiles, packed with germ styles

It's sick.

It's just the way we function- on top of the garbage pile.

-

Grasp for the notion-

Emotion is an ocean

Grasp the notion-

Emotion's in commotion.

-

It's the essence of a penned hand,

Every letter is different,

that forms un-same words.

The chromosomes that form us-

We are entitled to so much corruption.

-

Bold faced lie-

It's agonizing, trying to fight

Having raging black mold

Conformation in cleaning out our insides.

-

But I smile...

My teeth crawling with it,

Everywhere,

Carry as I speak."

I like talking about *******
And I like laughing about awkward situations that aren’t my own
I love hearing about how other peoples parent relationships are just as ****** up if not more than mine.
I feel understood when someone new inevitably tells me they have anxiety,
Or that they hated school.
Cigarettes and beer on men’s breathes still make me dissociate.
And I still try and squash my stomach out of existence or into my pocket to put someone else’s comfort first.
And I still ignore pain during *** and separate my mind and body into compartments to situate myself in the part where it feels good.
I’m still angry.
I still get pangs when I see particular people’s names, or photos, or mention of their friends or favourite music. The pang is dulled now like a blunted needle…
But still the stab reminds me of the twang it used to bring.
That would pull at my limbs till I was foetal and wretching.
I think I got bored of my own pain,
Or I wore myself out.
I think there’s only so long you can hold both sides of a non-existent conversation.
I’m still reaching for affection, compliments and pet names…
And I don’t know if it’s ****** or parental but god I just want to be hugged.

I caught myself by surprise once when I snuggled up to my dad and as I lay beside him watching a movie, I revealed to myself how much I was hurting.

I am sick of crying bathroom selfies. I am sick of shower crying and breakfast skipping. But I do like the rush your body gives you after you’ve let loose on tears.
It makes me wonder if depression is just a little bit addictive.

I still like that feeling…and sometimes I want to feel sad because it feels deep..
But it’s only enticing until you’re there and then it’s a deceptive tar pit of hell,
And you’re tricked and sticky and heavy.

I haven’t been depressed in ages,
But my memory’s bad so I might have felt awful last week
I’m not sure.