Crying isn't Anything
Crying isn’t anything.
Can’t be turned into a paper crane.
Just unfolding, sliced feelings.
Without friends around, I can eat a cookie while crying.
If I had one, it would be chocolate chip.
An apple could hit my head under this tree.
But there is no tree either.
And I could eat that fallen apple if it really did fall.
It’s like I want something to fall on me, like a frog falling from the sky.
Crying isn’t anything.
It isn’t a soft wind blowing steam from a far.
Sniffling and blowing my nose endlessly.
Just tears making me collapse.
Dragging my feet but not trying to move at all.
Just being pulled along by a zombie who is already bored of me.
Crying isn’t, isn’t anything-
Not real, not sweet, not the taste of the bottom of my shoes…
Crying isn’t anything.
So don’t try to knock on the door.
Eat those cookies you were about to leave for me.
Because crying isn’t anything.
Copyright © Angelica Tao | Year Posted 2025
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