as I ran down my hallway to his room, my eyes burst like clouds ready to storm. The water flowed freely and there were no words. His bed. Lord, his bed. The one he would never share with me again, he would never sleep in it or watch tv in it or cuddle me in it. Never again.
one day my aunt,my sister,my cousin and i went to the pool at my aunts friends community pool.I belly flopped into the water i hurt my belly so bad i started to CRY.
My aunt said not to worry just sit in the jacozze. When i went to the jacozze it was reall hot.My aunt turned the bubbles on it felt so good.When i felt so much better i went in the pool again.I swam like a mermaid my cousin said i was really good.
i will always remember not to belly flop into the water again
To cry. An outpouring of human emotion, a tight feeling in the chest that can only be relieved through salty tears rushing over the skin. So many times we feel dead inside, we feel nothing; we force ourselves to laugh, to smile, to say words we don’t believe. Sometimes we lie so much about these emotions that we start to believe them ourselves. Can’t even tell when we really feel something and when we don’t. But crying–no one wants to cry. They use all their might to keep the tears inside, and when they come, they have no choice. The truest show of emotion, the truest way to show what is inside.
Have you ever thought about what it’s like to watch someone cry? And I don’t mean tears, I mean really crying, the type of sounds you can’t get out of your head even if you wanted to. And I didn’t want to, in some weird way. Something about seeing her cry reminded me that she was human, that somewhere deep down she was just as flawed as me. And I don’t know if taking comfort in that was something I should be proud of, but I’m not sure what I should be proud of anymore anyway, so it doesn’t matter in the end.
She didn’t cry anymore. Not when her first love said he cared and then proved otherwise. Not when her friends abandoned her. Not when her family treated her like a pawn. She just didn’t care anymore, didn’t feel anymore. Maybe that was messed up. But she hated crying. And now she didn’t have to do it anymore.
i haven’t cried in awhile. it feels like the last time i did it was when my grandma was ill, but i’m pretty sure i have plenty of times before that. i just remember crying a lot after she had a stroke. almost every night. it would hit me like a wave of sadness. whenever i was in the car, or when i was walking the hallways at school. i’d be fine one minute then the next i was sobbing like a baby. i’d never forget the rush of emotions i felt
I don’t ususally cry. Crying is weakness. I am not weak. But sometimes you just have to cry. Not because of a special thing that is sad or something like that, you just cry because of everthing that happened, because it’s too much. And crying this way, is freedom.
cry, if it helps, does it help?
cry onto me, use my shoulder to unburden yourself
let it all go, let it all out
let it flow like a river…
& when the well has dried up
& you’ve emptied your cup
does it feel any better?
I do’t cry normally. Crying is weakness. I’m not weak. But sometimes you just can’t stop crying because it just feels good. Then you don’t cry because of something that happened, you just cry because everything is too much at the time.
as I ran down my hallway to his room, my eyes burst like clouds ready to storm. The water flowed freely and there were no words. His bed. Lord, his bed. The one he would never share with me again, he would never sleep in it or watch tv in it or cuddle me in it. Never again.
one day my aunt,my sister,my cousin and i went to the pool at my aunts friends community pool.I belly flopped into the water i hurt my belly so bad i started to CRY.
My aunt said not to worry just sit in the jacozze. When i went to the jacozze it was reall hot.My aunt turned the bubbles on it felt so good.When i felt so much better i went in the pool again.I swam like a mermaid my cousin said i was really good.
i will always remember not to belly flop into the water again
To cry. An outpouring of human emotion, a tight feeling in the chest that can only be relieved through salty tears rushing over the skin. So many times we feel dead inside, we feel nothing; we force ourselves to laugh, to smile, to say words we don’t believe. Sometimes we lie so much about these emotions that we start to believe them ourselves. Can’t even tell when we really feel something and when we don’t. But crying–no one wants to cry. They use all their might to keep the tears inside, and when they come, they have no choice. The truest show of emotion, the truest way to show what is inside.
Have you ever thought about what it’s like to watch someone cry? And I don’t mean tears, I mean really crying, the type of sounds you can’t get out of your head even if you wanted to. And I didn’t want to, in some weird way. Something about seeing her cry reminded me that she was human, that somewhere deep down she was just as flawed as me. And I don’t know if taking comfort in that was something I should be proud of, but I’m not sure what I should be proud of anymore anyway, so it doesn’t matter in the end.
She didn’t cry anymore. Not when her first love said he cared and then proved otherwise. Not when her friends abandoned her. Not when her family treated her like a pawn. She just didn’t care anymore, didn’t feel anymore. Maybe that was messed up. But she hated crying. And now she didn’t have to do it anymore.
i haven’t cried in awhile. it feels like the last time i did it was when my grandma was ill, but i’m pretty sure i have plenty of times before that. i just remember crying a lot after she had a stroke. almost every night. it would hit me like a wave of sadness. whenever i was in the car, or when i was walking the hallways at school. i’d be fine one minute then the next i was sobbing like a baby. i’d never forget the rush of emotions i felt
I don’t ususally cry. Crying is weakness. I am not weak. But sometimes you just have to cry. Not because of a special thing that is sad or something like that, you just cry because of everthing that happened, because it’s too much. And crying this way, is freedom.
cry, if it helps, does it help?
cry onto me, use my shoulder to unburden yourself
let it all go, let it all out
let it flow like a river…
& when the well has dried up
& you’ve emptied your cup
does it feel any better?
I do’t cry normally. Crying is weakness. I’m not weak. But sometimes you just can’t stop crying because it just feels good. Then you don’t cry because of something that happened, you just cry because everything is too much at the time.
My tears may not always show, but I cry inside, deep in shadows. My tears may not always show, but I cry just under the surface in the light.