Empty Tears

I still think about
her tears that day,
the ones I never saw
but heard the weeping.

I wonder what they
must have looked like,
those kinds of tears,
those hollow, empty tears.

Tears are such heavy things,
carrying so much weight
and dragging us down with them
as they run down our face.

But those hollow, empty tears
must have been so light
like tiny bubbles
floating out of her eyes.

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