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Imperfect Sobs

Raindrops trickle down my obscured windshielf
Meeting with each other to roll down in camaraderie.
I sit so that the shiny tear tracks on my face
Line up with the shimmering trails of the rain drops
The parts of them left behind to dry up
And be absorbed by the air.

Now, no one looking in could see
I am crying shameful tears.
Tears that unapologetically run down
My face in mascara streaks.
Digging trenches in my foundation,
Scarring my face with glistening reminders of my regret.

I grip the steering wheel tighter with one hand
Bruised knuckles turning white,
The other hand clenched in a fist
And pressed to my teeth, smearing my lipstick
Mashing my tongue into the roof of my mouth
Until I choke and gag on my imperfect sobs.

Finally I pull over and stare in the mirror
At my defiant, solitary tears.
Then I turn off my wipers and let the sky cry on my car.



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