Used tears in it's wake.

Logic says there is no need to cry. But the heart has very different opinions about the definition of "need". And so I take a page from the book of "advice to others" and spin it around to face myself, for once, as hard as that can seem to be, and put it all down. Not let it go, no, for that would be far easier said than done as so much else. But to put it down, as in to let my fingers dance faster than a pen could ever write, dance and click along the keys of this keyboard, dancing to release a sweltering melting as parts of me drip the chemical eating away at parts I had not known I carry. A sadness so deep, not even numbness could taint. A fear so clear not even fog could hide, as much as the hiding tempts. For to swallow this pill could stop the till, churning to evolve this field that I have faith You will sow. But the one-liner of my life, "given a long enough timeline" laughs in my face today, as I cry out to know just how far that might flow. The waiting, the waiting, the anticipating, now to come to hopeless head makes so much suddenly seem so futile and my breathing dries like used tears in it's wake. A sense I cannot make. Though I do know it, it is only reactive, yet my heart draws no such lines in the sands of my times, and refuses the logic that all love and support would then cite as reprieve. Oh for a reprieve to stand so simple. But there is nothing none can do, nothing one can do, but the One who is true could change up this weakened blue, if the She only knew how to fix me,
by fixing you.

Please. Please do. So that I might feel but all of the You's, as close to me as I know can be true.
I give ourselves, to You.


Take this from my heart, and replace it, with my Hope,

one more time.