I want to be found, but it’s hard to say so when you’re at the bottom of a pool of tears. I seem to be unable to find my way home; perhaps I’m lost.
One night, I received an email of a cartoon GIF with an animated boy crying and tearing blood.
As I was just about to delete the email, I noticed little drops of blood on my keyboard.
“I hate you,” she whispered, a single tear falling from her eye. “I don’t,” he said before slowly kissing her forehead and walking away.
I laughed at your tears.
They’re just so CUTE!
I leaned over the coffin, my hot tears falling on her cold face, and told her that I loved her.
‘Then kiss me,’ she said.
This post submitted by Mark McAuliffe
I’m limping because last night I stood on some shards of broken dreams.
They are scattered on my bedroom floor along with my self-respect, bottles of girlfriend tears and lost hopes crumpled and stained.
He came into this world with a triumphant howl and as I cradled him in my arms I cried tears of joy. He left this this world for another realm and as I cradled his head once more I bent my head over him letting the tears of sorrow wash over his face.
When I read your book, it brought me to tears.
Not in a good way, you understand.
I stood there, completely still; my toes curled into the stiff sand, letting the waves wash against my feet and glide back into the sea.
Thunder crashed and the darkened sky cried, I threw up my arms to let the tears fall into my palms, while the salty wind whisked my own away.
A dust cloud filled her rearview mirror and her screams shattered off the windows. She let the last tears fall as she outran her broken heart.