Hear My Cries

Listen…can you hear me weeping?
My tears suffocate my breathing.
Through the night, they echo soundlessly

My tears are cold yet gush crimson

Pain is not enough to describe endless torment.
The excruciating anguish and excitement,
Pump my adrenaline and scar my wrist beautifully.

My tears are dark yet illuminate.

Each drop, clear or red, symbolizes life.
Brilliant in its own special way dealing with strife.
Never surrender the murder of its quality.

My tears are silent yet scream so loud.

The loneliness and pain I suffer alone.
I continue to be numb, but I should have known.
This feeling if embraced can act dangerously.

My tears are unique yet all the same.

The ones shed are for the exact reason.
There is a story behind them of horrible treason.
I shudder remembering the times soulfully.

My tears are condemned yet define a peace.

Relief is only made after several drops or cuts.
Preventing is not an option although it is a must.
I surrender to the pain of its vitality.

My tears are caused by many yet morally my flesh.

Day after day, the same assumption is made,
I will not be freed but instead gradually fade.
Wild and insane laughter consumes my mind continually.

My tears are a mystery to you yet sometimes to me as well.

Listen again…can you hear my cries?
Can you see the blood?
Can you feel the emptiness?