They start calmly.
Welling up and blurring your vision.
Slowly they take control of your sight and force you to leave the smooth, white ceiling you are stare at.
You feel that first, sticky drop roll it's way down across your jawline and skate off your face to be the first form a growing puddle on your soft pillow as the night grows weary and hopeless.
Tears stream out of your eyes and you question why you cry.
You lose yourself in thoughts of self agony and know that life will not be okay.
You will not control your depression.
You will not control your anxiety.
You will continue to cry each night.
Starting with those calm, creeping tears that come to drown you while you lay in self-pity.
June 10, 2015 at 3:45 am
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