The Language of Tears
it seems so easy to cry now
the tears coming from some ever replenishing source
and I am not startled any longer
when a hot stream flows down my cheeks
when blinking releases a torrent
when the words hidden in my tongue
are drowned out
by the truth in a face
haggard with sadness
leaking from every pore the screams that never escape my lips
a silent cacophony
I can hide and lie and pretend
but still I cannot control
the overflowing
the wearing on my soul
the tearing of my very essence
and in this transcedence
nothing could ever explain
except for the way light glosses a face
covered in tears
rubbing pink into the white, petrified cheeks
adding life to the death in bloody eyes
creating beauty in torture
I no longer suffer while hidden
because to weep
is to commune with an inner pain
the indescribable
succintly explained
by the fat drops dotting my lashes
the trails running down
seperating heartbreak from ebullience
misery from joy
a path between both worlds
like laughter in the eyes of a corpse
it seldom occurs without an audience
but i wish to see
glory in the defeat
victory in my surrender
to the passions guarded within