Dried Tears



I remember everything that happened back then.

I wish I didn't.

I wish I never had to see that.

You don't know this, but my first memory was of when I was three.

I remember, we used to say, "Mommy, Daddy, don't fight."

I'm not sure if you remember that.

I'm not sure if you even knew that we used to say it.

How would I?

You never listened. You never mentioned it.

Why don't you ever listen to us?

I can't ever get a word in.

I've gotten so used to being ignored around the house like a book lying around.


I hardly talk anymore. I just listen. And think to myself.

Now, I can't even make a decision because I don't want it to end

like my very short childhood did.


I lasted a decade with hardly thinking about back then,

but now, I can't seem to forget long enough.

It seems like once I forget, I remember again.

I wish I cried about it now because then I can let go,

but my tears dried up years ago.

You know, now, I can't even tell him that I love him.

I'm 5000 miles away, and even on the phone,

those three simple words can't seem to escape.

You would think that I love you more,

but I can't even be with you without feeling lonely.

Feeling like I don't belong.

Being with you reminds me of back then,

and I wish I could cry,

I really wish I could cry,

but my tears dried up years ago.


I never really knew what life was like living

with Mom and Dad. A big, happy family.

I’ve never really had either, and

this so called family isn't used to talking about feelings.

We bottle them up and then we burst.

We got that from him. Not you.

Sometimes, I wish it was all different.

I wish I spent my childhood in one house

With Mom and Dad. I wish for a family,

but my dried tears won’t tell you

how important that is to me.


And I wish I wasn't constantly compared to my brothers.

We aren't the same people. They were older then.

They got over it. They knew why.

I've never gotten a straight answer about anything from either of you.

I don't even know what my first word was because of you.

I don’t know who I am because of you.

Is there anything that you can agree on?

Maybe. One thing.

That you love us.


Need to talk?

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