Well,you’re not gonna cry about it, are ya? I mean, this really happens to the best of us. It’s a bit awkward, right here and now and everything, but really, it could have happened to Jeanie from the sales department. Now wouldn’t this be hilarious, had this happened to Jeanie from the sales department?
i so just wanted to cry when i heard that he was seeing Fiona. horrible. i had to walk and talk to him and try not to fall apart on the street. i had to be peaceful about his replacing me. and i even told him that he had done it all really well and been kind and helpful about decieving me about seeing her.
When I’m sad I cry when I’m happy I cry. I never understand why we cry. Maybe it just all of our thoughts coming down into visible puddles. Puddles. Have to see to kee sane. Like writing down notes to not keep your head crammed with precious ideas you’re afraid to lose. Crying is what keeps us sane, keeps us in touch with reality. Keeps us vulnerable.when were first born we cry to breath. When were little we cry to get our necessary or unesecarg attention. When we’re older we cry in public yet feel ashamed or we cry in private to hide our pain.
The tears fell down her face in streams and she couldn’t breathe. It was as if something was preventing her from allowing the air in her lungs and the only sound that could escape her lips was a strange choking sound that only hurt her chest more. It was an ugly sound. It was a sound she hated to hear. But she couldn’t stop it. Not while the only person that she had left was lying cold, motionless on the ground in front of her.
I always feel like crying when I think about what has happened in my life to upset me. My mom, parents, family, friends, boyfriends. It all just gets to you after a while, tears down upon you and makes you feel worthless. But then, once you’ve cried it all out, you can feel ten times better than you did before crying. Crying is what releases the soul.
I don’t cry often. When I do, it scares me. It scares me because it means that I’ve lost control of the situation. The worst is seeing my mother cry. I always think it’s my fault. It’s never that simple.
We lost the red earth to the hands up above again
They took a shovel and dug deep down,
Splaying the red water everywhere,
Like raindrops or teardrops just trying to go home.
i like to cry i think that it get a lot out of you and you feel like you get things off of your chest and you feel a little relieved. its a good thing to cry every once in a while you should try it soften up a bit. but you shouldnt just cry alone, its always good to cry with someone. thats why its good to tell people things and not just hold it in, you have to open up and cry a bit.
too manh voices in my head cry and scream and moan, the voices clawing and scrabbling over each other, low and high and pitchy and growling. I close my eyes, not trying to differntiate or focus but mrely to feel them, their scratching and their licks of love
i cry a lot. it’s not always like, a bad cry. sometimes i think i just bottle things up and i need to let it out. whatever “it” is. i sort of feel things way too deeply and sometimes i think that’s the only way to let things out properly. cry cry cry.
Wow. Sat here, staring at the word “cry” for half the allotted time. It stings, tears. Never really thought how the making of it causes pain. Have I noticed? (Maybe just forgotten?) I suppose it makes sense. Pain masking a different kind of pain–The alarm, it dinged. Physically shaken. Now. Blinking back a blur. Gonna weaken the dam. Salt cures all wounds. Never forget: Tears strengthen. It’ll be okay. Breathe… Cry.
I tried so hard not to cry that my insides hurt. It was like holding back a tsunami behind cracked dam walls. My cement lids were chipped and broken, raw with the incoming floods of the last few tiring years.
Clinging on wood, chair cushion soaking saliva. No. Can’t stop crying as you coil around me. Scaled snake attempting to comfort me. Forked tongue slipping across my cheek. Hot water. Tea steeped. Brewed. Brewed. Served lukewarm.
Sad and lonely, I sit here thinking about the past. What was and will be no longer matter but indeed matter most to me. Nothing makes sense so these tears stream down my face. Just a feeling, nothing more.
I wish I didn’t have to cry, but the best way to get him out of my system is to cry it out. He abused my heart by leaving with a piece he didn’t even want. Now I just need to move on, but there is something that keeps bringing me back to him. His eyes, his smile or maybe being forced into situations where I have to deal with him on a regular basis.
Wow, do I hate to cry. I’ll do just about anything to avoid that. Yes, I did pretty much everything to avoid it, including drugs, but hey I lived to tell about it, so here I am telling you to cry like a baby if you have to. To stay alive.
Before you try to figure out why, or try to guess how this ends, know none of it was my fault. It wasn’t my fault that her things were lying all over the street. The guys that I hit, that wasn’t my fault either. They attacked me first. She said some pretty mean things. Yelled them really. And then she began to cry. The whole time all of this was happening, I couldn’t help but to wonder what kind of lip gloss it was that she was frantically trying to find.
tears. sadness. Before i sleep at night this is what I do. It makes my boyfriend sad when he hears about it but it’s such a natural fact of life. Is it odd that I find his lack of them unusual? Maybe it’s me. Why so much crying?I always cry. I don’t know why. It can be the smallest thing and it just sets me off. My dad smiling at me, or someone saying something. It just goes and then there’s no stopping it. I end up feeling weak and drained.
Sitting in the hot house listening to the cry of the wind outside I feel the sweat pouring out of me. The wind has a meanness and almost a vanity in the power it demonstrates. Standing out in the hot wind was like being shouted at and physically bullied by a loud aggressive person.
I cried a lot that night. The night was wild and crazy. It was not what was supposed to be. I fought hard, I tried my best. I guess it was destined like that, but it made me cry. and I cried.
She read the letters he was writing, not to her but to that other girl and she cried. She cried for the memories she had, for the times she spent laughing and smiling. She cried for the times that were horrible, the arguments and fighting and everything. She cried for it all. She needed to get rid of everything, and the only way she could think of to do that, was to burn it. Burn it all.
i never cry. sometimes i cry when I am all alone and someone died or i remember something that happened a long time ago that I thought that i could forget. i don’t like to see people cry. sometimes i wish that i could cry. crying would get rid of some headaches. heartaches. i used to cry in yoga. like put my head down and sob when the music was loud enough. sometimes i cry right before i fall asleep. sometimes i cry in the shower. sometimes i get homesick and then i think about when i was 4 or 5 and something terrible might have happened or i didn’t appreciate everything enough, and then i cry because I was just not aware. i didn’t know how life could be or would be. i didn’t know that i was making myself into a non-cryer. sometimes i get surprised by how much i miss something, a feeling, and then i all of the sudden cry because i just miss it. i can’t have it and that makes me mad. i like to be in control. that’s why i don’t like to cry. i only cry alone. i used to cry to get my way. now i cry to get away.
I close my eyes, fighting the urge to cry. But I can’t. I can’t let them win. I can’t let them have the satisfaction of seeing a single tear ripple across the brim of eye. They’re so unworthy of my tears, but that doesn’t stop the pain from strangling the breath in my chest.
We all break down, and lose people and memories and things. Everybody hurts, and we all need a good cry sometimes, because in the end, you’re not just a sad story. We are here, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why.
I don’t cry very often. But when I do, it is when I’m truly sad. When I cry , it is when I’m most vulnerable and I feel like even a feather could cause me to collapse.
It is all I can do from keeping myself from crying. “Are you sure?” I repeat, as if asking again will change the answer. I can almost imagine Marie’s lips compressing into a thin, ill-humored line at my question.
When she speaks, her voice is just a bodiless murmur in the the darkness.
“Yes.”
cry
that’s so depressing
it’s what I did earlier
leaving my mind numb to all else
cry
the winter clouds mirroring me
or am i the mirror to them
cry
the smeared makeup still dry upon my cheeks
eyes and nose slightly swollen
hope that groundhog lets spring come soon.
cry
There’s nothing like a good cry sometimes. All that pressure builds up, it needs somewhere to go. Then the storm comes and washes through all your corners, leaving you calmer, quieter and not as full as before.
Everyday, he’d curl up into a ball and cry. And why shouldn’t he? He missed the days when his mom and dad wouldn’t fight. He missed the days when his sister was still there for him. But missing them wouldn’t do anything. Those days were gone.
Allow yourself to cry once in a while. It is an emotional cleanse that allows energy to flow out of you like no other. Infact crying is a beautiful display of an overflow of energy in the body whether it be because your full of sadness or happiness.
There weren’t any tears, per se, but she wasn’t surfing on rainbows either. He was only there for a brief instant and then, poof, gone, like a grocery store bag flying through the breeze, slapping her in the face, and then carrying on down the street as if its unbiodegradableness was the source of some insentient arrogance.
It was with a dramatic swoosh of her arm, the door opened to reveal the Xmas table. Of course it was perfect. Of course everything was new for this once-only eating fest. i could just cry. When did we finish high school?
Well,you’re not gonna cry about it, are ya? I mean, this really happens to the best of us. It’s a bit awkward, right here and now and everything, but really, it could have happened to Jeanie from the sales department. Now wouldn’t this be hilarious, had this happened to Jeanie from the sales department?
i so just wanted to cry when i heard that he was seeing Fiona. horrible. i had to walk and talk to him and try not to fall apart on the street. i had to be peaceful about his replacing me. and i even told him that he had done it all really well and been kind and helpful about decieving me about seeing her.
When I’m sad I cry when I’m happy I cry. I never understand why we cry. Maybe it just all of our thoughts coming down into visible puddles. Puddles. Have to see to kee sane. Like writing down notes to not keep your head crammed with precious ideas you’re afraid to lose. Crying is what keeps us sane, keeps us in touch with reality. Keeps us vulnerable.when were first born we cry to breath. When were little we cry to get our necessary or unesecarg attention. When we’re older we cry in public yet feel ashamed or we cry in private to hide our pain.
i used to cry a lot but now i realised that there is no point in doing that anymore, all u have to do is embrace what u,ve got
The tears fell down her face in streams and she couldn’t breathe. It was as if something was preventing her from allowing the air in her lungs and the only sound that could escape her lips was a strange choking sound that only hurt her chest more. It was an ugly sound. It was a sound she hated to hear. But she couldn’t stop it. Not while the only person that she had left was lying cold, motionless on the ground in front of her.
I always feel like crying when I think about what has happened in my life to upset me. My mom, parents, family, friends, boyfriends. It all just gets to you after a while, tears down upon you and makes you feel worthless. But then, once you’ve cried it all out, you can feel ten times better than you did before crying. Crying is what releases the soul.
I don’t cry often. When I do, it scares me. It scares me because it means that I’ve lost control of the situation. The worst is seeing my mother cry. I always think it’s my fault. It’s never that simple.
We lost the red earth to the hands up above again
They took a shovel and dug deep down,
Splaying the red water everywhere,
Like raindrops or teardrops just trying to go home.
i like to cry i think that it get a lot out of you and you feel like you get things off of your chest and you feel a little relieved. its a good thing to cry every once in a while you should try it soften up a bit. but you shouldnt just cry alone, its always good to cry with someone. thats why its good to tell people things and not just hold it in, you have to open up and cry a bit.
too manh voices in my head cry and scream and moan, the voices clawing and scrabbling over each other, low and high and pitchy and growling. I close my eyes, not trying to differntiate or focus but mrely to feel them, their scratching and their licks of love
i cry a lot. it’s not always like, a bad cry. sometimes i think i just bottle things up and i need to let it out. whatever “it” is. i sort of feel things way too deeply and sometimes i think that’s the only way to let things out properly. cry cry cry.
CRY means Cardiac Risk in the Young or Child Rights and You America Inc. Battle Cry, Cryogenic,
Wow. Sat here, staring at the word “cry” for half the allotted time. It stings, tears. Never really thought how the making of it causes pain. Have I noticed? (Maybe just forgotten?) I suppose it makes sense. Pain masking a different kind of pain–The alarm, it dinged. Physically shaken. Now. Blinking back a blur. Gonna weaken the dam. Salt cures all wounds. Never forget: Tears strengthen. It’ll be okay. Breathe… Cry.
I tried so hard not to cry that my insides hurt. It was like holding back a tsunami behind cracked dam walls. My cement lids were chipped and broken, raw with the incoming floods of the last few tiring years.
“Don’t cry.”
Can’t stop, can’t stop.
“Don’t cry.”
Can’t stop, can’t stop.
Clinging on wood, chair cushion soaking saliva. No. Can’t stop crying as you coil around me. Scaled snake attempting to comfort me. Forked tongue slipping across my cheek. Hot water. Tea steeped. Brewed. Brewed. Served lukewarm.
Sad and lonely, I sit here thinking about the past. What was and will be no longer matter but indeed matter most to me. Nothing makes sense so these tears stream down my face. Just a feeling, nothing more.
I wish I didn’t have to cry, but the best way to get him out of my system is to cry it out. He abused my heart by leaving with a piece he didn’t even want. Now I just need to move on, but there is something that keeps bringing me back to him. His eyes, his smile or maybe being forced into situations where I have to deal with him on a regular basis.
Wow, do I hate to cry. I’ll do just about anything to avoid that. Yes, I did pretty much everything to avoid it, including drugs, but hey I lived to tell about it, so here I am telling you to cry like a baby if you have to. To stay alive.
Before you try to figure out why, or try to guess how this ends, know none of it was my fault. It wasn’t my fault that her things were lying all over the street. The guys that I hit, that wasn’t my fault either. They attacked me first. She said some pretty mean things. Yelled them really. And then she began to cry. The whole time all of this was happening, I couldn’t help but to wonder what kind of lip gloss it was that she was frantically trying to find.
I hate crying, I dontt really see the point in it.. it doesnt solve anything, you become more tired and you just look pit
tears. sadness. Before i sleep at night this is what I do. It makes my boyfriend sad when he hears about it but it’s such a natural fact of life. Is it odd that I find his lack of them unusual? Maybe it’s me. Why so much crying?I always cry. I don’t know why. It can be the smallest thing and it just sets me off. My dad smiling at me, or someone saying something. It just goes and then there’s no stopping it. I end up feeling weak and drained.
Sitting in the hot house listening to the cry of the wind outside I feel the sweat pouring out of me. The wind has a meanness and almost a vanity in the power it demonstrates. Standing out in the hot wind was like being shouted at and physically bullied by a loud aggressive person.
I cried a lot that night. The night was wild and crazy. It was not what was supposed to be. I fought hard, I tried my best. I guess it was destined like that, but it made me cry. and I cried.
out of love
out of pain
of happiness
out of beauty
out of
She read the letters he was writing, not to her but to that other girl and she cried. She cried for the memories she had, for the times she spent laughing and smiling. She cried for the times that were horrible, the arguments and fighting and everything. She cried for it all. She needed to get rid of everything, and the only way she could think of to do that, was to burn it. Burn it all.
I havent done so in so long. I want to, but things change so fast.
too fast…so fast i cant and it drives me crazy.
Tears do fall from my eyes more often then I’d like. Sometimes they fall into the wee hours of the night.
i never cry. sometimes i cry when I am all alone and someone died or i remember something that happened a long time ago that I thought that i could forget. i don’t like to see people cry. sometimes i wish that i could cry. crying would get rid of some headaches. heartaches. i used to cry in yoga. like put my head down and sob when the music was loud enough. sometimes i cry right before i fall asleep. sometimes i cry in the shower. sometimes i get homesick and then i think about when i was 4 or 5 and something terrible might have happened or i didn’t appreciate everything enough, and then i cry because I was just not aware. i didn’t know how life could be or would be. i didn’t know that i was making myself into a non-cryer. sometimes i get surprised by how much i miss something, a feeling, and then i all of the sudden cry because i just miss it. i can’t have it and that makes me mad. i like to be in control. that’s why i don’t like to cry. i only cry alone. i used to cry to get my way. now i cry to get away.
I cry. Not deeply. Sorta superficialy. like i just wanna relive preasure in my head or something. Im not really ashamed i just let it happen.
I close my eyes, fighting the urge to cry. But I can’t. I can’t let them win. I can’t let them have the satisfaction of seeing a single tear ripple across the brim of eye. They’re so unworthy of my tears, but that doesn’t stop the pain from strangling the breath in my chest.
We all break down, and lose people and memories and things. Everybody hurts, and we all need a good cry sometimes, because in the end, you’re not just a sad story. We are here, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why.
“So, what do you think of her?”
“Dude, have you seen The Crying Game?”
“No, is it any good?”
I don’t cry very often. But when I do, it is when I’m truly sad. When I cry , it is when I’m most vulnerable and I feel like even a feather could cause me to collapse.
It is all I can do from keeping myself from crying. “Are you sure?” I repeat, as if asking again will change the answer. I can almost imagine Marie’s lips compressing into a thin, ill-humored line at my question.
When she speaks, her voice is just a bodiless murmur in the the darkness.
“Yes.”
cry
that’s so depressing
it’s what I did earlier
leaving my mind numb to all else
cry
the winter clouds mirroring me
or am i the mirror to them
cry
the smeared makeup still dry upon my cheeks
eyes and nose slightly swollen
hope that groundhog lets spring come soon.
cry
There’s nothing like a good cry sometimes. All that pressure builds up, it needs somewhere to go. Then the storm comes and washes through all your corners, leaving you calmer, quieter and not as full as before.
Everyday, he’d curl up into a ball and cry. And why shouldn’t he? He missed the days when his mom and dad wouldn’t fight. He missed the days when his sister was still there for him. But missing them wouldn’t do anything. Those days were gone.
Allow yourself to cry once in a while. It is an emotional cleanse that allows energy to flow out of you like no other. Infact crying is a beautiful display of an overflow of energy in the body whether it be because your full of sadness or happiness.
There weren’t any tears, per se, but she wasn’t surfing on rainbows either. He was only there for a brief instant and then, poof, gone, like a grocery store bag flying through the breeze, slapping her in the face, and then carrying on down the street as if its unbiodegradableness was the source of some insentient arrogance.
It was with a dramatic swoosh of her arm, the door opened to reveal the Xmas table. Of course it was perfect. Of course everything was new for this once-only eating fest. i could just cry. When did we finish high school?