Tears.

• Julia Harris, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2010

It is too early in the morning to cry,
But I can feel them coming.
Large, fat, slippery, salty,
Water droplets that will spill down my face.
They will not come violently,
Or all at once.
Instead they will gather in the corners of my eyes,
Slowly and silently slipping away.
Like all other emotion,
They will leave me.
I will be empty inside.
I don’t feel this yet,
But I know I cannot prevent it much longer.
I am alone and I don’t know what to do about it.
So I sit and wait,
Wait for the tears to come.