i cry these tears
equate cheap eye
drops, that barely
stay in my swollen
eyes, and dribble
prematurely down
my cheeks.
but i can't pretend
i'm sad. i'm not really
sad, but tears sure
do help the matter.
crying is better than
sticky eyes and late
nights trying to write
but only coming up
with poems about
soft beds
and beautiful white - yes.
as i wet my eyes
once, twice again, i
think of reasons to
cry. i'm tired. i'm hot.
i'm lonely. my eyes
are dry and i am
alone, on a computer
at midnight.