If I showed you my teardrops
Would you collect them like rain?
Store them in jars that are labeled with pain?
Would you follow their tracks?
From my eyes down my cheeks
As they write all the stories
I'm too scared to speak
Would you stop them with kisses?
Bring their flow to a halt
As they teach me that pain
Isn't always my fault
Would you hold my face gently?
As you dry both of my eyes
And whisper the words
"You're too precious to cry"
If I showed you my teardrops
Would you show me your own?
And learn though we're alone
W 're never alone
YOU ARE READING
The Fear of Drowning Deep
PoetryShe was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful something to be admired from a distance not up close. - A little talent is a good thing to have if you ever want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every...
