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The Girls Who Cry

The Girls Who Cry

Where are they?

They’re everywhere, of course.

But where do we find them?

Anywhere, they’re here, they’re there, they’re everywhere.

I know I know, but the girls who cry –

Where are they now?

I know they’re in school, at home, working hard in their jobs. They’re doctors, lawyers, nurses, teachers, coaches, scientists, judges, they’re everywhere.

I know, but the girls, where are the girls who cry?

Better yet, who are the girls who cry?

They’re alone. They’re quiet. They’re submissive. They’re obedient. They’re compliant. They’re respectful. They’re non-confrontational. They’re patient. They’re loving.

They’re resilient. They’re survivors. They’re silent.

The girls who cry. We know who they are. They’re us, they’re you, they’re me.

But the girls who cry can’t be seen.

The girls who cry can’t be heard.

They can’t be weak. They cannot seek for –

Help!

They say

Help!

Under there breath

Help!

Beneath the sheets

Help!

With mouthes muzzled

Help!

Help!

Help!

The girls who cry

The girls who cry

The girls who cry

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