See this? See this bag?
Filled with things...your sharp words like graying lumps of rock...little, bright shreds of my soul scattered among them. But do you know what you do not see? The tears I never cried. They are absent from this bag I carry.
Uncried tears formed together, crystallized into rock like diamonds...growing me...pushing through me...in spite of you.
See this bag? See this bag I carry?
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