Crybaby

Crybaby.
You’re such a crybaby.
Why do you cry all the time?
Aww, are you crying for your mommy?
Stupid crybaby.

If I can remember my very first insult
it would be that terrible word
that awful piercing word of Crybaby
that would define my unrestrained childhood
and my inability to control my raging emotions.

I would cry everytime I got frustrated
I would cry everytime I got teased
I would cry everytime I got yelled at

and for some odd reason
I would cry the hardest
around girls I had feelings for
because I just didn’t know
how to express my feelings to them
except to simply cry in front of them
when I felt like they weren’t paying attention to me.

Crying was my escape mechanism
because it was addicting to feel that high
everytime the tears started rolling in
and I would lose myself in the short breaths
forget about the shitty world
forget that I’m
always the odd kid left alone
always the uncool loser picked on
always the invisible guy that nobody saw.

That was my childhood.

But even now,
I still have that inner crybaby inside of me
the crybaby comes out into full force
when things get way over my head
or when I’m being pushed to a corner
or when I feel completely invalidated and unwanted
I can’t help but to
yell into the air in utter frustration
eat excessive amounts of sweet food
listen to soul crushing tunes of dejection and misery
and just let the waterworks go.

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