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She is not easy to spot. She may have her head down, pretending to be on her phone, using her hair to cover her blotchy face. Or she may be leaning against the bus window, turning into the glass so you can not see her tears.
we cry a lot.. you made us cry
we cry on park benches, toilets, libraries, at the back of the lessons, we sit on the pavement and cry on the cold concrete at two a.m, our shoes held in our hands. we cry in school bathrooms, we cry on bridges and we cry on stairs of house parties.
What makes us cry? or is it a better question: Who?
Sometimes it's not a boy but someone else. Your best friend, your family, your face that bothers others, your attitude, your teachers, your cousins, your financial balance, your grades, and most important YOUR EXPECTATIONS.
I wonder if the salt from our tears is still the concrete, crystallized beneath my feet? if there are traces of it remaining underneath my shoes?
you know what I cry a lot... one time I cried a lot more. I found my crying hit a new peak, as crying does sometimes. When the grief hits so hard, sobbing takes on its own realm. The pain in my stomach was raw. I sometimes think maybe all the tears we cry are due to this massive gap between the how-we-think-things-should-go and what-life-actually-gives-you.
You know the thoughts while crying are terrible. like literally you blame yourself for everything and you do hate yourself.
You are like: I am a terrible person. I ruined everything. No wonder they act as if they don't like me sometimes, I don't like myself either. I hurt people. I am selfish and terrible and crazy and I can't believe how I treat them (tho they are treating you like shit).
Sometimes we tell ourselves stories of How things should go, and we get angry and upset when life doesn't go plan. And, sometimes, I've realized, we tell ourselves stories of Let's imagine the worst and pretend it's true, without actually checking in with real-life to see if our dark make-believe is grounded in reality. And it causes such pain, us being lost in daydreams of if-onlys and I'm-sure-it-won'ts.
Sometimes that's all you can do in life when it comes to pain ~ try and understand it. Well, all carry scars and scorch marks around with us. We cuddle up each night with ghosts of damaging memories~ we let them swirl around our heads, never able to settle or heal because we can't make sense of this terrible thing that happened to us, and why we are finding it so impossible to get over. You can't force pain to leave until it's ready to get over.
We all deserve to be treated kindly, no matter how inclined we are to fuck up.
When you cry they act so weird... acting like everything is our fault.. they'd say:
stop being paranoid! , You're a bit too much, you know? , you are so manipulative, what's going on? I promise you are just CRAZY, why do you always do it? , it's your fault, can't you take a joke? , you're going to kick-off, aren't you? , STOP IT!, you're a bitch.
ns 15.158.61.5da2
