I've cried because of hurt
Because of happiness
Because of understanding and the things from them that mis(s)
I have cried because of loss
Because of gain
Because my mind can never differentiate good and bad
The same decipher of glad and mad
I've cried because of tears
Because of the warmth down one's cheek
Like a grandmother's kiss
Or a mother’s rubbed knuckle
I have cried because I could
And with no knowledge of what it means to let go
I continue to let tears pour
Down my face like water trickling from the shower
A wet collar
Often stained with black from materials in which makes me look beautiful
I have cried
And as tears pour down my face
I am reminded of my problem
That letting go is harder than taking in
That even the sturdiest bag does too break
That sooner or later, that drenched towel must be wrung dry
I have cried
And just like being stuck out in the middle of winter for too long
I have become numb to the idea of what it means to stop
