It’s Not the Wind

I want to think
That water is coming
To my eyes because
Of the wind so violently
Blowing against my face,
But in truth my heart
Is aching, and I can
Feel it, just as real
As a headache.
I’m not squinting
Because of the wind
Either. I’m hoping I
Can start seeing
Differently, that my
Eyes will decide
To side with my head
And let go
Of fairy tales. Reality
Stinks, and isn’t
Nearly as colourful,
But I need to look
At it. I have to
Look at it.

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