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Diluted Tears by Trinity
She sits down on the curb.
Tears dripping on the pavement.
Like paint from the picture she never painted,
splattered on the wall.
If someone were to ask her why she was crying,
she wouldn’t be able to tell them.
Too much of her dolor would be left untold.
It starts to pour.
Piercing raindrops that feel like ice hit her.
She smiles through her tears.
The sun is too bright anyway.
Her tears continue falling.
They splash into the quickly forming puddles of
rainwater on the concrete.
The teardrops become so diluted,
they aren’t even there anymore.
The only thing that makes them different is ripped away
the second they come in contact with the puddles of water.
This isn’t a girl who most people would think
would ever be crying on a curb in the dark.
She’s not the girl in the bathroom cutting herself with a razor
or the girl who always sits alone.
She is the girl who skips through life with a smile.
Always bubbly and happy.
She hides her clouds with a vivid rainbow,
her frown with a laugh.
She doesn’t look like the kind of girl who would ever feel alone,
but she does.
Finally, when her hands are numb and the rain has slowed to a lazy
drizzle,
she picks up her Chanel purse
and steps beside the door of the building.
She takes out her mirror and gently wipes the mascara from her cheeks.
She puts on more concealer.
She smiles convincingly into the mirror and closes it with a snap.
She takes a deep breath and steps inside the door.
12.2005 |
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