When my body was focused into puberty,
I became aware of sorrow,
And how my tears are my comfort.
I remember the sorrow I felt about my changing body.
I didn’t want to be an adult and wear a bra at
The age of ten.
However, I was focused into it.
I cried as I was fitted into my first training bra.
A bra that I will wear for years since my breast barely grew.
I remember the sorrow I felt after my first heartbreak.
The tears I cried could have filled the four oceans.
The pain I felt follows me to this day.
I still cry for the lost love I gave.
I remember the sorrow I felt after every fling and relationship I’ve experienced.
Despite me being an unhinged, disturbed being,
I am still capable of giving ample love and time to the men who could care less about my well-being.
There is countless examples of my sorrow,
this is only a short list.
I am a human that is often subjected to pain.
From my life experiences to my own dreams,
I am haunted and tortured.
How does my body produce so much sorrow?
I wish I knew.
How does my eyes fill with buckets of tears?
I wish I had an answer.
My being begs to be expelled from my body
If this pain continues.
Maybe I will let it free one day.
But until then,
I write about my pain and monstrous thoughts and daydreams with you,
My dearest reader.
The Paramour 