I wear these black tear tracks as a flag of hurt. Pronouncing my misery to this empty house. I wear this reminder as a reflection of that in which keeps me going. Achieving. Succeeding. For I need to escape. Escape this house, this life, this family that reminds me of my failures.  I cannot escape my pain. These tears are my offering. These dried black stains are my flag. You condemn my suffering. Claim it as a petty temper tantrum. You know nothing. Nothing of the sacrifices I've made. Sacrifices that I made so that I may achieve and succeed. I cannot win this war, the battles' odds are stacked against me, yet here I stand. Ready to give my all to persevere. I shall not wear these black stains in vain.