I can't
cry anymore;
The
muffled sobs
Stop at
the incarcerating rock
In my
throat,
That
refuses to disintegrate,
Its
levels rise higher, higher,
Higher
with each twitch,
A
deformity of a frown,
A grin, a
frustrated laugh.
The rock
swells.
I can't
cry anymore ;
The
inconsistent breaths,
The
futile attempts
At
controlling the expanding
And
contracting of my lungs,
Lungs
feeling punctured,
Like a
car tire that's been running
For too
long,
Too
tired.
I can't
cry anymore;
My
parched skin aches
For the
salinity.
The
suppressed rain
Lands on
my pillow,
My eyes
fluttering into
Disturbed
sleep,
Dreams
tainted with redolence
Of the
petrichor of a troubled mind.
I can't
cry anymore;
My mouth
makes no sound.
All my
words come out
In
whispers,
Faint
utterances from a place
Of
chaotic contemplation,
Words I
whisper as I weep,
My eyes
drier,
My skin
moister,
My throat
heavier.
I can't
cry anymore.