teeny tiny thoughts

comeback

here I am again,
fingertips on keyboard and eyes on my
     screen.
turned my back, I was ready to heal.
I should've known I was far from being well.

cradling back to my pillow of blank screen,
to drench and fill it with my tears of ink.
I can write again—should I celebrate this
     rain that has ended my drought?
or throw a pity party because I'm more
     broken than I thought.

everybody told me that the higher I climb,
     the harder I'll fall.
now, I'm falling—continuously falling down
     this hole.
softening my rock-hard façade were tears
     running down my cheeks.
all that's left is to wonder when I'll break.