I see these tears
Splot down on my
Paper.
Each one perfectly formed,
Uniform in size,
So hauntingly beautiful.
The teardrops
Themselves don't
Betray whether
They are
From joy or
From sorrow.
They splat on
The page creating
blotch marks,
Ink running.
So maybe I'll
Just write with
My tears,
The salty
Liquid as ink,
The intensity
Of my sobs
Dictating
The words
Laid out.
My vision blurred,
Nose runs,
Mouth filled with
The bitter taste of
Salt.
My ears filled with
My cries.
All I see, hear, and taste
Are these tears,
As they splot down
On my paper.
Splot down on my
Paper.
Each one perfectly formed,
Uniform in size,
So hauntingly beautiful.
The teardrops
Themselves don't
Betray whether
They are
From joy or
From sorrow.
They splat on
The page creating
blotch marks,
Ink running.
So maybe I'll
Just write with
My tears,
The salty
Liquid as ink,
The intensity
Of my sobs
Dictating
The words
Laid out.
My vision blurred,
Nose runs,
Mouth filled with
The bitter taste of
Salt.
My ears filled with
My cries.
All I see, hear, and taste
Are these tears,
As they splot down
On my paper.
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