Don't. I will not cry I will stay impassive, untouched, unhurt. I will never let the tears betray me. I will not let anyone get any satisfaction of seeing me hurt.
Silent hot tears roll down my cheeks. It's okay. No one will see. No one can see. My head is bowed low. My long hair screens my face. My hair is my shield.
The tears on my cheek freeze, like frozen gems. But then hot new waves cascade down and they melt. My cheeks are very wet, glistening like the weeping moon on a cold lonely night. .
A broken heart. I never believed the clichÃÂ© that a heart could break. Or that heart could die. My heart is breaking and dying.
A small crack starts at the core, slowly spreads and the pain intensifies. A flame starts at the corner, and slowly burns the tender fibers and the pain screams.
I stifle my screams by pushing my hand into my mouth.
I wish they never lied. Because instant pain is so difficult to fight and repress then enduring pain. A piece of my heart crumbles off. I have an incomplete heart.
Help me someone! Be with me. Hold my hands. Tell me I'll be okay. Make everything right. Tell me my world is still safe. Please someone. Anyone... Words form but they get caught and choked back.
The library is filled with unspoken life. Shivering pages turning occasionally. Tired sighs punctuate loneliness, and sometimes the intent scratches of pen can be heard as liquid letters are formed.
I want to run. Fast, keep on running, past obstacles, run without seeing. I want to run away from pain. Pain is an ugly word. Pain is a disease, slowly consuming, so deadly.