Crying

I cry so often, so much

Use to the stuffy nose and the tears sliding down my face

With a salty taste

You think it makes me weak

Others think it too

But, in reality, it’s the opposite.

Letting others see it may feel degrading

As they look upon with their eyes full of pity

That pity disgusts me

But crying, never made anyone really weaker, did it, no.

Because holding it all in,

Never letting it go, infinitely letting it bottle-up into a Hell,

Actually makes you the weak one.