| Tearing Tears Wet upon a cheek-- you touch it with your nails, you stroke them with your wonder for everything I do. Can't you pull me into you, hard, tight, strong? I don't want to get away, feeling your loss inside, showing it on my skin, thinking I won't last. A little longer path, a little more salty, God, why can't they stop? Facing the walls I'm making, I paint my body on the floor, a form of make-believe camouflage. Circles going around me, I drag my feet, I have fallen; dressed up in my pain. With a spritz of sadness, and a mascara coating of emptiness, all I'll ever need to glisten in a harsh light. Waxing, melting, burning, dying-- in a puddle. |
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