Like tides, the water in my eyes rises higher,
Threatening escape from its hardened core.
But with tides, the water is controlled by force,
It stays pressed to my eyes in a cloudy fog.

As the fog clears, I gaze at myself in a pond,
Willing teardrops to fall and relieve me of pain.
When a dew droplet slides down the length of its leaf,
It soon swirls down my cheek in a thundering storm.

Once the storm hits, it promises breaking and pain,
So I run to the waterfall beckoning me.
Hiding beneath it, I quake at the lightning,
For it brings back the hurt to my shattered being.

At the seeping of liquid from my soul to the ground,
Weakness encroaches; I lay down my body.
Surrounded by water, I collapse, heave, and cry,
Immersing myself in the river of pain.

03/26/2003

Posted on 07/28/2004
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