Shattered pieces of heart, adrift in my mind,
I realize there’s an ocean yet to find.
Standing here with but a few small drops,
While the storm in my chest waits, untouched, unlost.
My tears deserve freedom, freedom to fall,
To express, to be free—can they answer the call?
But can they? Can they truly be?
When judgment lingers for all to see?
My eyes stay dry for the world’s gaze,
Yet inside, they’re wet in a thousand ways.
I lose, I fight, though they never heed,
The tears that beg but I don’t set free.
Behind this mask, whispers take form,
Thoughts I bury, safe from the storm.
The uncried tears ache to be known,
Yet fear of weakness keeps me alone.
But with those I trust, in my sacred space,
I cry and share without the chase.
That comfort zone has always been one,
That one person—my mother, my dearest.
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