“Why do you cry so much?”
Everyone asks —
As a joke!
Curious as to why a normal human being cries so much.
But even as a joke
It pierces an echo, an echo of a prophecy,
Prophecy of a blame, that I carry
for the life I was supposed to lead.
For the longest time, I said,
It’s just the way I am.
The answer to my tears is a bit complex!
See, all my life
I let strong teeth snatch my life out of me —
bite into my softness
like heartbreak was a spice,
like my soul was meant to be swallowed.
I let heartbeats carve cracks in me
and called it romance, as I tremble
Let those minds mistake my silence for strength, as I count pieces
and let my tears out as screams —
screams only I could hear.
I could write,
write about times when I wished I had not cried.
But these tears,
they are my warriors
when my words are too scared to show.
They are my signs
when my rage does not know any direction.
My tears are the easiest way I communicate,
like metaphors when I know no metaphors.
Tears gave me reason to write,
to fight a feeling that I didn’t belong to me.
To make me believe my aches were worthy.
And for so long
everything I wrote
was soaked in sadness.
As tears became my muse —
the ink to my etches,
as I only knew how to write
when something inside me was leaking.
I know I cry a lot.
But it’s not always “a cry for help.”
My tears —
They hold the virtue of my life.
Each one a song,
a sacrifice.
I cry not as a tragedy
but a melody.
To sum up —
I will cry a lot.
Cry when life changes.
Cry differently at different times.
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