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| Tears |
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| by KittyGoesMrow | There were times I wanted to cry...
Times... when I could have, but I refused...
Times when I could not, and yet... I would have given anything...
For one drop from my tortured eyes.
It is funny... how they associate the tears with repentance...
forgiveness...
purging.
I never thought of them that way.
No.
For that would have been foolish.
I would be lying to myself.
It was never something that pure or perfect.
Tears...
They were imperfect and raw.
Bittersweet memories engraved upon your cheek.
They were not purging...
They were the corruption that made you remember,
Made your whole body remember.
Tears were neither repentance, nor forgiveness...
Tears were the resurrection of the sin and the eternal damnation that came with such a weakness.
They taught me not to cry...
And there I was, broken like a glass figurine...
Frozen in time and shattered in oblivion.
They taught me not to cry...
And there I was, struggling to force the tears to come, for my damnation,
My release,
My freedom to come...
They taught me not to cry...
And there I was,
One final time…
My eyes dry as my blood dripped from my slashed wrist onto the floor…
And my tears would not...
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