crying on the inside

i never knew that if you hold them back long enough, tears run down on the inside. you don't see them. you don't feel them - on your face. it's when they hit your chest, your lungs, your heart that the salty sting cripples you.

pushing them back again and again can't be good for the ducts. inverse, reverse, inward dripping. to weap like this rehydrates? or dehydrates? shedding tears extracts salt. hiding my tears from you dries me out from the inside out. how dare you...

i have nothing to give up. you need to figure things out. and try not to do it whetted. change of plans - you planned. i know how to read, read time, read you. at least i did. i wonder if like a page in a book my face shows where the tears stain, from the inside out.

i don't like firery hard-to-read signs that lead me nowhere. i don't like the uncertainty of how to express what is inside. you should know better.

i need to pour water over my face. hide the tracemarks of unshed tears. you cut me deep. i push deeper. you mustn't know... do you know?

i half want you to see me break down and drown in this pool :: i half want you to never see me again.


hic extraneus sum