Tears
You'd think that by now
I'd be used to the
taste of my own tears.
Yet, they still burn as they fall from
the corners of my eyes to
my quivering mouth.
Sometimes, they fall like pouring rain in the winter.
Other times, they
drip
drop,
like the water from the bathroom faucet, after washing my face to cool
down from the hot summer's day.
My eyes are overwhelmeded from
the light
seeping through the
darkness.
The darkness ; being my treacherous thoughts of
suicide.
The light ; being the radiant sun,
reminding me that
tomorrow, I will rise!
YOU ARE READING
insomniac thoughts/poetry
PoetryWhat I think about when I can't seem to shut my eyes from this gaping hole of my existince. Poetry, coming from the side of me that I do not share w/ people, because I'm afraid of what they'll think of me. I'm okay w/ sharing the hidden parts of my...
