My tears, I hate them
But they are luckier than me
Unable to contain themselves
They swell and fall down
At least they know where to go, unlike me
For I am utterly lost without you.
But unlike me, my tears can't speak.
If they could, they would say
I want a glimpse of you
It would keep me going the whole day.
I want the sound of your laughter
It would give me the strength to go a long way.
I want the warmth of your hand in mine
It would make me feel nothing else mattered anyway.
Why can't somethings ever be?
Why is finality so binding, like death?
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