Drowning In Tears

The tears are already dripping on the fumbled paper.

On the bedsheet, on the floor.

The tears;
They taste soar and salty,
they taste sad.

And they feel so hot on my body and chest; clothed with my damp T-shirt

and yet the sweat upon my body feels cold of this anxiety.


The tears aren’t willing to stop now.

I look like a complete mess

with my face smeared of ruined make-up;

the tears staining my white ripped dress.

I search for a little hope that isn’t here anymore.

No, I can’t hear your voice like it used to call me before.

I’m drowning…


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