The sound of dripping
was not of tears, but of her blood.
Thick scarlet drops, create a pool,
spreading to my quivering hands.
Kneeling, I stared in disbelief,
the lively face, now ashen.
Her glassy eyes seared into,
the very essence of my sanity.

The lonely rain falls heavily,
abandoned by the wind now,
seeking comfort in the land.

The breathtaking view of soft falling crystals,
glimmering when caught in the morning rays,
provokes bitter-sweet nostalgia- though I know,
we are in the time of now, they will forever linger.

There is a saying being that- a single tear is worth a thousand words.
Now if only the water that has been dropped upon this page could just,
turn into letters, thus spelling out the reason behind them being shed.

I am entirely devoted to maintaining my sanity,
My body and soul is suffering from sever exhaustion.
Teenage hormones amplifies conflict severity to what its not,
I am told my life isn't bad, others are worse, so what?
Are all my feelings just an illusion, just a misconception?
Do all my experiences amount merely to a web of lies,
One in which I am the helpless fly caught on a thread,
Continuously struggling and pulling, only to further constrict,
While in actuality all I had to do was wake up from my dream.

The sweet tickle of the fleeting whisper upon my ear,
sends wave like sensations of heat through my body,
like a drop, adding to the pool of accumulated desire.

If he has a face only a mother could love, then so be it and call me his mother. A name is but a name, and you can call me what you wish but, the essence of my love shall forever remain the same; as "a rose that is called by any other name would smell as sweet."