For Broken Hearts

When the tears run out,

What then?

They're all I have.


The ripping breaths

Convulsing chest

Quivering lips

Clenching fists

... they're all just fuel for the pain.

Those things don't purge,

Not like tears


I can hold a tear

In my trembling palm,

It's tangible and real

I can feel the slickness of its suffering

Taste its salty agony

This is the bitter fruit of my pain


So when the tears run out

As they surely will

What then?


Shall I bleed?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Originally written 1/27/14

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