# I won't cry tomorrow okay?

By [Meta Poet](https://paragraph.com/@meta-poet) · 2022-08-05

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_I cried a lot today._

_Yesterday, I cried a lot more._

_And Thursday too._

_The tears rolled down my cheeks and slipped straight into my keyboard_

_They rolled and rolled until my vision became blurry,_

_So blurry, I couldn’t find the “I” key._

_I screamed a lot,_

_and jammed the tail end of my blanket into my mouth to reduce the noise_

_There’s just too much to cry about, you know?_

_For one,_

_Happiness;_

_It never chooses me,_

_It never has._

_But despair?_

_I know it like the scar on my left cheek,_

_The lining on my stomach wall,_

_Or the knife I press between my palms,_

_One I use in slitting the lines on my left knee_

_In the dark,_

_Despair is the sniper I keep behind my bed_

_Just in case,_

_Or the voices that whisper to me at night_

_They tell me I’ll be fine, then they add “or maybe not”_

_I don’t like what they say sometimes, or how they say it_

_With mockery,_

                                Fuck them!
    

_I don’t want to leave yet._

_I need to see how my mother turns out,_

_Will she be free?_

_Free from the umbilical cord father wraps around her neck?_

_Happiness wants her,_

_I see the way it flirts with her, teases her,_

_And hugs her wide hips._

_But she won’t choose it,_

_She’s just like a 4-year-old who’s still latching onto its mother’s breast_

_suckling,_

_when they’ve been soaked in bitter leaf water_

_She’s so silly._

_I’m listening to Ubomi Abumanga_

_All of it is very soothing,_

_the drums and piano._

_And that voice? oh, that voice!_

_I’d like to close my eyes to it but,_

_It tells me life hasn’t stopped. That it doesn’t stop_

_and that the birds are awake._

_What do I care?_

_I’d like to mint some Non Fungible Token_

_It’s just that I think programming is a pretentious language, all that_

_init function: excess code( )_

_over.what? ( ‘huh?……)_

_some lifeless website?_

_I used to think happiness was lying in a boy's arms at three twenty-six AM,_

_Swirling In the dizziness of a dose of molly,_

_Or in the adrenaline of brief successes_

_Until those hands held me against a wall and forcefully entered me at three thirty-six AM_

_And my presentation for the Logan Inc account fell to pieces._

_What do you say to the girl who can't feel her thighs?_

_Or to the child who has tripped into a wet gutter?_

                  Get up?
    

_I won’t cry tomorrow_

_Okay?_

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*Originally published on [Meta Poet](https://paragraph.com/@meta-poet/i-won-t-cry-tomorrow-okay)*