It’s Crying Time
Eyes up, no tears. Dad’s stage-four cancer, I thought, shouldn’t cause everyone to break down.
Crrrrryyyyyyyy babyCry baby. Cry baby. Honey, welcome back home
Could you cry a little, lie just a little, pretend that you’re feeling a little more pain
baby go on and just cry me a river
Dad is sick, this is bad
Cry, baby. Honey, welcome back home
Enter your email address to receive notifications for author Molly Priddy
Confirmation link sent to your email to add you to notification list for author Molly Priddy
More in this series
I’ll go through the egg-freezing procedure that will give me the chance of maybe, one day, having a child.
“In the beauty parlor, I watch my ringlets collect like dark, bushy tumbleweeds on the checkered floor.”