let it out

pain isn't pretty,

when the phone rings with bad news, there is no beautiful anymore,

you cry until your face is red and blotchy,

dishes go unwashed, trash litters the floor,

you've worn the same shirt the entire week, and your hair needs a proper wash,

yet you stay in bed, hoping this is all a bad dream, it's not

sometimes tragedy is unavoidable, and it's ugly,

and that's okay,

grief isn't always funeral, flowers, then you part your ways,

it can stick like molasses,

because something, someone isn't there anymore,

so don't avoid the inevitable, let it out

cry tears until there aren't any left,

until snot dribbles from your nose, your eyes feel like the desert, and your cheeks look like they got a bad sunburn,

cry those ugly tears,

-it's not pretty, but you're surviving