she sits alone
all these feelings are unknown.
she doesn't know what to feel
is any of this even real?
tears stream down her face
she doesn't want to be a disgrace
she doesn't fit what they require
but at least she's a pretty crier.
at school, she doesn't have any friends
so she just pretends
she pretends to follow the trends
hoping that someone's hand will extend.
but no one ever hears her crying.
so at lunch she just quits trying.
she goes to the library to eat,
but everything must be neat,
so she doesn't bring her food in.
that's where she saw it start to begin.
she never tells her mom,
she just wants everyone to remain calm,
so she starts to become a liar.
but at least she's a pretty crier.
she can go days without being able to feel,
but she realizes that she needs to have a meal,
she feels sick when she eats food,
so "why eat?" she concludes.
after months, she opens up to her friends,
they don't judge, but instead they extend,
they extend a kind word and a hand to hold.
they say that she doesn't need to be controlled,
while they aren't there physically,
then listen to her uncritically.
she can feel her tears become drier
because now it doesn't matter
that she's a pretty crier.
- K
BINABASA MO ANG
honey and glass ✨
Poetrya collaborative collection of poetry :) creators: K, E, A, Z, L
