Don't cry anymore...
Wipe away those tears,
I will always and forever be here...
No matter if I'm your friend or more,
I made you a promise,
And those I keep,
I'll never leave you.
Don't give up on me,
I need you now more than ever.
Down to every single drip of my tears,
Enough to fill an ocean's burden,
It's almost too much to bare,
But I keep my head held high,
...and smile.
Even if fake,
The mask I once wore,
shall always back for more...

The only indication that I had cried while writing this was a single tear drop that stained the last period of the poem. I shakily put down my pencil and stared at the words I had written. Poetry provided me with so much comfort. It couldn't take away the pain permanently, but it gave me reassurance to some extent.

I had always thought that love was infinite. I had always thought it lasted a lifetime and that nothing could tear it apart. But obviously my current state is a clear example of just how it could be torn apart. My whole world is ravaged and my plans have shattered as depression slowly creeps up behind me, but my inner angels continue to fight off its slithery grasps. I still had dignity left — even if I felt it was stolen from me.

Why do we give so much of ourselves to one person only to later be subjected to pain and heartache? Pain is what you feel after it all happens and you cannot for the life of you stop crying. Heartache is an emotion that is unexpected — only felt when love catches you off guard and then jumps into an abyss.

Why do we grant that one person in our lives total power over ourselves?