It is a river.

It spins, and weaves it's way down the valley of your heart, fertilizing the most fondest of memories that put it there.

It is a stitch.

The stitch time wove to soothe the pain, only to reopen and bleed again, never fully healing. Never becoming a scar.

It is the regrets, the manipulation, and the lies you put up with in such a little time period. It goes on, and never ends. It's a torrent on the worse of days, it's a puddle on the best, but the pain is always there.

The Tear is wide, it is deep. It ices over who you were, and hardens who you are.

Time was suppose to heal it, but that was the first lie that widened the chasm. Time only slowly slid a dagger into the wide slit, making it go deeper, pumping the pain into your veins as if it were venom. Reminding you of the betrayal, and pain the ones your trusted caused. Teaching you, don't be so open, nor trusting. Keep that love you posses to yourself, cause no one deserves it.

Teaching you, People live to make that Tear deeper, more painful, bloodier. You swallow harshly, at that lump in your throat just to rock a ship in the belly of your soul. Cause, you want it to go away, you want the pain to stop, you want to love, to trust and to be open. You believe, or at least you did when you were younger, the Tear was smaller, that people were good.

It is better to wear a mask, right?

To build walls to keep people out. But the walls keep the pain inside. You hide and you run so fast, so hard, and so long in the hallways of your mind, only to turn a corner to see the pain right there. To see the Tear. Staring into the Abyss you see all the Lies, the Betrayal and Hurt. All the emotions, all the memories. You cry.

It is too much, how can you hold all of it in? Simple, you can't trust anyone. Every time you do, it bites you in the ass. Every time you do, it pushes you into that chasm and it takes forever to get out. You have been a step for so long. You have been a mat for so long. The Punching Bag, the one who was pushed to the side and forgotten. You speak and laugh loudly to be heard. You have learned to be mild is to be forgotten, so you pretend to be bold, and brassy, people like that, you like that. But you know it's a show. The Mask to hide the Tear.

The Tear hangs in your eyes at night, it floods your pillow. But, when the sobs were heard, you kept them quiet. You say, "I am fine."

You are the opposite of fine.

No one speaks the truth, we all have Tears, all have the Masks of who we think we ought to be. And when the Tears are seen, people hide. So do we. It's a never ending circle.

It is a never ending Tear.