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Dried Tears
February 2, 2011
The streaks on my cheeks,
a painful reminder,
of what once was.
Dried and gone,
the tears no longer wet,
My skin tight,
but the heartache fresh.
Maybe you don't know,
but dried tears are the worst.
The remind us of pain,
of hate,
of unspoken chances,
of shattered hearts.
But nobody can tell,
So no help comes.
Sometimes we need to notice,
what's been shed,
to realize the hurt,
That can never be healed.
© Christine H., Brooklyn, NY
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