A drop of water on my eyelid.
An ocean of sadness within.
It filled me to the brim, my emotions on an overdrive my mind super tired.
Where did it come from?
A rude word, a broken dream, a spent day any or all or something else.
They are droplets of misery, pain and sometimes wonder.
As the world within churns them out like nectar from the Gods, they represent everything broken.
I strive to keep it inside me, but the river flows on, the voices in my head don’t stop ‘ Big girls don’t cry!’
Tears, they form nevertheless, making their own path like rivers through a desert.
Where are they flowing to?
Will they bring relief and happiness from this drought!
They are silent streams, with their own stories.
They don’t speak, they gather up.
Tears, as they swell up and break the banks of reason and decorum.
I wipe my cheeks again and again, I need them to stop!
pulsingthoughts 