my eyes look greener when i cry,
but only in the mirror.
i think i'm pretty when i cry,
but only when i'm alone.
i never wear waterproof mascara,
because i like the way the regular kind
runs down my face. makes it all feel like a
teenage girl moment, not an
emotional breakdown moment.
after 365 days of it, i still don't know
if my eyes look greener when i cry
because my rosy cheeks instill
contrast, or if they really are
that green. here's to 365 more to find out.
sunday nights are my own.
old music in the corners of my mind
pen scratches on paper, ten thousand poems
two hundred and seventy-two
little golden lights, 4 walls
that mirror my soul.
At the hurl of a storm, the tree collapses.
Stagnant from then on, broken. Such an easy thing to be.
In the unpredicted wind, it sways
back and forth on its trunk, tendons straining
in the months of darkness and cold, i never stopped writing.
i just kept it all to myself. every night, my own religion
pages of pen poised on paper, pouring my heart out
Comments
I'm a crier too, for sure. I've always been one to let it out when I'm frustrated or overwhelmed or angry, not simply sad. And reading this poem filled me with a measure of joy, that you are learning to come to terms with it, and even find beauty in your emotions. Our emotions ARE beautiful, and nothing to be afraid of! I still struggle with a small degree of (unwarranted) shame for my tears, and this is inspiring: I could really learn something from your outlook.
aw thansk! i agree emotions are beautiful haha
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