Actual tears

Assumed falseness is something to be aware of.

If the act of pain is unworthy of acceptance, why are we?

Something triggers me as my tupperware snaps together.

I don't know how something so real can become fake.

How my innermost Babuska Doll,

My centre and core, molten and hurting

Pulsing and moaning

All of it in vain,

Because 'actual tears' can be cried over quiet sentences.

'Actual tears' can be spent on typefaced fonts.

Miniscule mockeries of our facial language.

Our society and breath thickened to the unsifted parts of what we want

Only what we want

And what we want must be valuable

Precious because what are we if not armoured gemstones,

And every moment leading upwards

Every cautious spread of light and pride

Must be chaperoned by 'Actual tears'

Bullshit.

~