No Tears

It was sad but beautiful,

the ways she learned to cry.

How she learned not to use tears 

to express how she truly felt.

How she picked up a pen

and rewrote her prayers and

redrew her dreams.

How simple lines and symbols

became the song that she sang

on the lonliest, coldest nights.

How spinning in her garden

in the summer sunlight became

her routine on the stage.

How pretending to be someone else

was the only way to discover

who she really wanted to be.

How getting lost in books

helped her to write her own story

without knowing how it would end.

And in her lack of tears

she found strength, a way to carry on

without dwelling on the past.

And instead of finding a hardened heart

she found pure, unwielding joy.

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741