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Imperfect Sobs
Raindrops trickle down my obscured windshielf
 Meeting with each other to roll down in camaraderie.
 I sit so that the shiny tear tracks on my face
 Line up with the shimmering trails of the rain drops
 The parts of them left behind to dry up 
 And be absorbed by the air.
 
 Now, no one looking in could see
 I am crying shameful tears.
 Tears that unapologetically run down
 My face in mascara streaks.
 Digging trenches in my foundation,
 Scarring my face with glistening reminders of my regret.
 
 I grip the steering wheel tighter with one hand
 Bruised knuckles turning white,
 The other hand clenched in a fist
 And pressed to my teeth, smearing my lipstick
 Mashing my tongue into the roof of my mouth
 Until I choke and gag on my imperfect sobs.
 
 Finally I pull over and stare in the mirror
 At my defiant, solitary tears.
 Then I turn off my wipers and let the sky cry on my car.

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