Tears

She lays in bed writing on a piece of paper, trying to stop the tears. There's no reason for them. Everyone's sleep. No one's going to fight. Everything's all right. Still she can't help but cry. She questions her sanity, pulls her hair and bites her lip trying to figure out what's wrong with her this time.

Maybe it's too quiet but, the noisy fan is on. maybe the tears are just built up, although she just cried last week. Maybe she's not crying now because of now but crying because of later. Crying for what she knows will occur.

Inevitably.