Since yesterday,
or maybe the day before,
I haven't had a thing to cry
for.
Maybe I should sit
all alone
in the dark
and ponder
my existence
or remember
that time
when I felt
small.
If I am not awash in tears
then maybe
I am not alive with fears.
And without a panic to hold back
and a thought to curdle black,
it appears
that I
am
here
without a thing to cry for.