Crybaby

Cry, baby. Cry your tears of crystals that you shed so easily. Cry baby, just cry tears of jewels and stones down your porcelain features. Cry and cringe in streams of crushed dreams that hold onto your heart and soul like a death grip. Rubies and emeralds don’t compare to the worth of the pain that claws at the muscles and fibers around your body. Cry babies are a dime a dozen but you are distinct in your smile of fool’s gold and crystal diamond eyes.