salty tears, stinging

not starting peace with one self is an act of war itself

Lately, my tears tasted salty and stung. Badly. I’m crying a lot. It’s a big part of myself. Many variations of tears have I experienced in my nineteen years of life. The one where laughter comes loud and breathtaking out of your mouth. The one where your chest starts to tighten and nothing comes out, the pain clearly visibile for everyone to see in your face. The slow dropping ones that feel good on my dry skin. Lately, my tears started aching out my eye pockets. My neck declined down and I might think squeezing them together will help, and then they start stinging.