Speechless

Sometimes all it takes is a stranger's smile to lift your frown. A person who knows nothing of you or your sadness, yet it's as if they know to cheer you up by gleeming your way. I wrote a poem one time about a girl who was crying in her car. I did not know if she was crying for love, loss or anger. I still wonder to this day what was the sorrow she felt? These thoughts smile back at me and I wonder...how will anyone know how I feel unless I tell them. Tears are not revealed secrets, they simply show emotion. They don't fall with a spoken word or make a puddle of loud thoughts. I don't know how to tell my hurt, it is inside me. Everything in my head makes sense, but my voice speaks riddles. My thoughts are not jokes though, my fears are not funny, and my tears are not pretend. I have a fist of fury beating in my stomach and sometimes its punches me so hard, I become sick. My hurt eats me and I allow noone else to have a bite. I am selfish with my pain, it is my own just as others have theirs. I know though that my tears will get louder and at some point these cries will write a perfect sense.