Cry like a man!

By the time I finished my first sentence, ‘I fucking am not gonna cry’, tears had already welled up my eye lids, ready to pour down. I stopped writing and lifted my head to counter gravity from initiating a non-stop barrage. I had to stay still for any small motion seemed would result in a frigging downpour. I stood still waiting for the tears to dry within. But, as the welled up tears began to dry, the words that were meant to be written seemed to be vaporizing off my mind. The urge to write was irrepressible for there is no one to share my pain. The papers wouldn't mind registering my heart ache. Not wanting to cry was just to put a brave face forward and it would go well with my first sentence. 

Sensing the receding the water levels within the eyes and in a haste to condense and precipitate my emotions before they totally evaporate, I bend to write. A flash flood of tears pour over the paper rendering it useless and unnecessary. Tears speak a million words.

Note: Until I went searching for a pic for this post, I didn’t know about ‘Big City Secrets’. 'Cry like a man' is my own words. Although an allegation of plagiarism would be the least of my problems right now, let me react - 'fuck you', if you can’t believe that.