Spending hours on your floor
Seeing if you can cry away the pain,
You get to thinking about everything…
You begin thinking of people, friends, family...
And bad situations you’ve been in with them…
And then a slow, cold, tear runs down your cheek.
You then recall
Every fight,
Every angry yell…
And every night you stayed up…
Doing the exact thing you are doing now.
And this time there is two tears…
Slowly and painfully going down your face
To meet with the tear that started it all…
Rolling and rolling,
Leaving their marks and taunting you with your own depression.
But you’re too busy thinking,
Crying, breathing…
To gather enough strength
To wipe them away.
So they sit there.
Teasing you.
And showing you just how pathetic you really are.
More situations run through your head
And you begin to blame
The only one who seems fit to blame.
You blame yourself
For saying that one word or phrase
For not stopping something…
Something that should’ve been stopped a long time ago.
You blame yourself
For living,
For breathing,
For everything.
By this time
A crowd of tears has gathered
At the end of your face.
Each one representing
A word or an action
You either wish you did
Or wish you didn’t say or do.
Each one representing
Every scream of anger muted.
Every cry for help held in.
And once again
You start searching
For any ounce of strength left in your limp body
Just to wipe them away
Just to erase everything you tried to erase before.
But then, hours later,
Someone calls for you
And you are forced off the floor.
You wipe the water off your face,
Put on a smile,
And you go on like nothing happened.
But you know
Deep down,
There is another night like that
Somewhere in the near future
…Waiting for you.
