Tears

I've heard it a thousand times.
I know by it by heart.
I am bigger than other people.
Today it is raining.
I know it is all my dead family crying for me.
They wonder why.
I couldn't begin to tell them about the starving.
What about the cutting and my tears.
The stress, the addiction to weight and pills.
Laxitives and diet.
Then the exercise.
I know it would rain for forty days and nights.
They would cry out why mi hija, why?
The sad part is the silent answer I can only give.
I could never explain the relief I got from them.
I could never.
Not even to stop a tear.
I don't know how.
I can't explain such a deep part of my soul.
I won't and I don't.

*note: Mi hija (me e-ha) is spanish for my daughter.