The lacrimal caruncle
swells with blistering feeling,
flooding out the medial canthus.
It streams down the nasion,
dancing over the pinken,
inflamed to a roaring raw cheek.
Landing on dirtied and tore cloth,
used with the moisture to wipe
all the dust away from every memory,
even when it's possibly too late.

Now there is hardly anything
to be discovered in all of this.
You have done a decent job,
your hands are tired from it all.
Weak and brittle,
you still know now.
You know it could go every single way wrong,
it could be a waste of time,
it could hurt you beyond any kind of repair.

But you know.
You know it's him.
You know it will always be him.
It will always be him
that you wish to lay beside,
it will always be him
that you want to feel,
it will always be him
that you feel everywhere you go.
It will always be him.

You knock on my door,
But I can't seem to move my feet.
I am stuck to the couch like super glue,
But all I want is for you to be here with me.
You yell for me,
You bang on the door,
You try to pry open the window.
I cry.
I want you to stay in my life forever,
But I'll keep pushing you away because it's just better for me to be alone.

darling,
       you're beautiful.
                      but not in the way most
                             people see
                      in the way your eyes blend
                             from brown to green
                and the way your freckles scatter
                             along your face
             and how more beautiful can you be
                      when your eyes light up
                                your smile appears
                                        & laughter springs
                                            out of your chest
                                   what a beauty you are
                             special, like the stars