The Blue Cry Poem by Maria Deyana

There is a cry within me
afraid of its own loudness.
Not because it is weak,
but because it knows
it could bring down
everything I have built
on years of lies.

That small blue thing
sometimes shames me,
because it still believes
in good people,
like a child saving
the last piece of candy
for someone it loves.

And I tell it:
this world is not for you.
It crushes
what does not strike back.
So, I teach it
to be silent,
quieter than smoke,
lighter than breath.

But at night,
when pain loosens its grip
and the heart pulls out its nails,
it wakes
and begins to pound
against my chest.
To let it out —
or betray it again?

Each time I silence it,
it looks at me, blue,
and I know
it is stronger than I am.
It guards
the person I once was
before the world
taught me steel.

And maybe one day
I will let it scream
so fiercely
that even the sky will break open.
One day.

Just not tonight.