Crying Matters

Dear User of Me,


You walk right past 

not a word said.

In the summer,

I almost saved your soul

from the wrath of a blue-haired lady.

But, mama said no and held me captive.


You threw me into silence,

no phone calls. 

Not even another text,

or a dm. 


I guess I don't matter.

I guess I was just convenient.

To you. 

For you.

What we had was nothing,

just a patch in the history.


But, today, it's different. 

Today, I stand, here.

In your line of sight.

Knowing I would help,

You allowed the words to slip right off your tongue.



The first time I heard you say my name,

since summer vacation.

"Do you have pads?". 

There it is.

Again, an open hand.


A signal for me

to put on my cape

and my suit

With the 'S' on the chest.

Just to dive right in

to save you.



The second time I say it.

"I don't have any".

You shrug it off.

Back to ignoring me.

Back to showing I don't matter.


This time, I don't let it slide

This time, I say it.

How I feel.

Why I feel the way I do.


You sigh and throw me that same excuse,

"I have been MIA to everyone all summer". 

You and I both know that is not the truth.

The tale you rehearsed holds no weight. 

But, to you, it doesn't matter what you say.

As long as I am out of your face,

because I don't matter.

What we had does not matter.


I have to learn to accept it,

move on to the happier stage of my life.

Do I ache?

Yes, I do.

Will it last?

No, it won't. 


Love Always,

The Girl That You Made Cry





This poem is about: 
My community


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