Why do humans cry? Why, when we experience intense emotions, do our bodies decide to expel large quantities of liquid from our eyes? We are not even granted the small favor of it looking all beautifully tragic like it does in movies, no; it is noisy, it is messy, the tears are often accompanied by snot, and your eyes become awfully puffy and red. And sometimes you can't seem to make yourself stop. And sometimes there is nothing you can do about that. And then there are other times. Times when you expel this freaking ridiculous amount of liquid from your eyes when experiencing some form happiness. Those times are different. Those times aren't so bad, I suppose. But, honestly, those times are often just as messy and just as confusing, I must say.

Hollow breath
Shallow heart
Shaking bones
I know my time has come
Take me now
In your arms so comforting
For after everyone has left me
You are always the one still waiting

I sit quietly and watch as they all pass by
Strange strangers of every shape and size
Wondering what and who and how they are
Wondering how they've all come this far
There's the short man with shoes too small
The old woman, under her arm an old doll
The young man who always wears pink
The woman whose fingers are covered in ink
The man whose face is sprinkled with pimples
The little girl, on her left cheek one dimple
The gray haired woman singing under her breath
The man with the face anxiously waiting for death
The young woman hiding behind her dark hair
The albino man sitting while enjoying a pear
The woman standing rigid, who silently cries
The tall man standing near, eating her with his eyes
The lady wearing too much makeup, always bored
The father with his son whom he simply ignores
The crumpled man begging for food with his words
The blind woman who instead feeds the birds
The little boy with the white balloon in hand
The tallest trumpet player from a marching band
The bald man with the tattoo depicting a shipwreck
The woman in the suit with the scar on her neck
The two lovers sharing their first and last kiss
The man with the rings decorating his fists
The smiling woman whose cuts are apparent
The quiet young man whose arms are all bent
The old man with the bag full of piano keys
The blind old man with the parrot who sees
The young man with his black hat pulled down
The gentleman unabashedly dressed like a clown
The man with the blood shot eyes, scruffy head
The girl with the one streak of blonde hair dyed red
The small woman with the paper bag holding beer
And the lost looking man wondering why he is here
All of these men and woman and more I observe
Always coming and going, their stories unheard
For they are simply strangers for me to behold
Disconnected from me, yet still part of a whole
For among them I have my own story and role
But if only I could heard their own stories told
For then maybe I could understand my place
In a world full of strangers with each their own strange face

hey well you've come this far
to a place beyond your reason
why not stay a while and see
what it's like to live unknown
and unbelieved and forgotten
stay with us a while, or a little
come with us to special places
where together we can explore
and can pick through memories
and emotions and unused ideas
you can stay, have tea with us
wonder and wander with us too
to far off places and places close
places within us we'd never dared
to travel to before alone until now

She felt that she was most likely
going crazy
for a certain side of her
desperately wanted
to be part of it
yet another part
simply wanted nothing
to do with it at all
She felt like it was all
or nothing
and that quietly terrified her
into indecisiveness.

She picked at her nails
as she lay on the bed
listening to the sound
of the shower running
from the white bathroom
the smell of hotel soap
drifted from the door
and steam wafted up
from underneath it
she shifted her weight
the mattress creaking
the crooked lampshade
sending glares of light
across the dimly lit room
casting her into shadow
while she sighed a deep sigh
and folded the sign reading
"Do Not Disturb" in half and
tossed it sharply at the TV
which was muted and fuzzy
because they hadn't bothered
to find the hidden remote
before he left for his shower
that would never be finished
because he had already left
choosing to make his exit
through the small window
next to the dripping sink
of the locked white bathroom