Hour Four – If Tears Could Talk

I’ve heard astronaut tears are Jell-O.

If this is true, mermaid tears are seashells;

Pirate tears are rotted wood;

Pokemon tears are pixels;

My tears are stardust that was never wished on.

 

I can’t say I cry much.

I teared up at my grandmother’s funeral

Only because my mother begged me not to be next.

 

I have always wanted to be a shooting star.

Maybe someone would find hope in me.

Maybe someone would see me and smile.

I know people claim to care for me,

But I can never discern if they mean it.

 

Another reason I want to be a shooting star is because they are already dead.

Their matter is just spiralling down to Earth.

If my body could slam into the ground,

All limbs and organs bursting,

I would already be gone.

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