Don’t make me cry,
And when I do don’t ask me why.
I might be crying because I’m sad,
Or it might just be because I’m mad.
Sometimes I don’t even know.
I remember once when I was told its ok to let them go,
I said no,
I don’t want them to flow.
Its not fun to cry,
Especially when you don’t understand why.
I wish I knew why I cry so much,
Sometimes I even wish to die;
But end up crying.
Dying would not only end the pain,
It would stop the flow.
So one cold day,
I decided I had hurt enough.
I took a knife to my throat,
And sliced it,
Till I let it all go.
The blood, the tears, the reality of all my fears.
As I saw everything go,
I just realized I should have just let them flow.
But no,
I had to die,
Because I was a big girl.
And big girls don’t cry.
