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tears D,:I've been forgotten by a friend
Scolded by a stern parent
Disappointed by a bad grade
It doesn't matter what the loss, but I'm crying
Weeping, sobbing, bawling until I die of dehydration
It just keeps on coming
I'm just not getting happy
My sleeve is wet
The tissue box is empty
My eyes are glassy
I'm not even that miserable
But I cry more
Till my sockets are swollen
My eyes are bloodshot
If I wasn't deplorable before, I am now
A series of unanswerable "whys" go through my mind
Why, why, why, what am I doing?
It's not until you see me crying
The tear marks streaking down my cheek in lines
And I'm gathered up in your embrace
And held against your chest so I can hear your heart
That I start thinking
"Maybe crying's not so bad."
And I forget why I was upset in the 1st place.
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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