Sometimes I’m certain
I might never stop crying
tissues wadded up in my pockets
sunglasses worn, still
when it’s cloudy and gray.
I smile through it
tears living their life Incognito
but becoming less discreet
time and time again
when provocation rears itself—
more murder of our fellow humans
defenseless creatures with no voice
killed in carelessness
or deliberately slain for sport.
I cry when I’ve realized
someone I wished to know
is gone, and that time has passed
never the chance to lock eyes
travel to a secret world together.
I’m almost certain
I will never escape the tears—
unrelenting erosion
of love, life, and the possibility
of intuiting another
with random and unexpected
depths of knowing
—still unknown.