Placid Tears
These translucent tears drip down from my tear ducts, stay for a long while on my face: placid, serene, dousing.
Why is it not the things we say, but the things that are left unsaid that torment our soul... digging into the deepest desire of the hearts, showing what we hate, and making that truth become real. She learns what is a near sweet is eloped into an hot acidic shell.
Why is it that of all the things in the world it has to be me who feels tormented daily with the distance of the one that's loved? The hurt inside is recognized in a similar fashion, not breaking the heart but mending it. Seeing her happy face once in a blue moon could light my soul afire for a thousand millennia. What happens when this blue moon is not found? When all we see is a fear mixed with sadness, and hate in their eyes. Breaking our hearts causing the tears of joy to cease, and never return. The tears I shed on a nightly basis are eminent, something I've become accused to... seeing her perfect smile caressed in my cupped hand, kissing her lips. Just before this dream is torn away, the heart becomes broken, just like every other one of my hearts before me. I move on leaving a trail of blood behind along with my heart, sould, and a small pile of useless tears.
Brittany (ali's friend
hey...that is really sad....but its really awesome...u should become a writer...like write a book or write for a newspaper or somethin.....i could never dream of bein that good...:)
posted on 13/04/2008 at 20:42