My tears have caught in my eye sockets,
Far back where they cannot pass.
I yearn for the temporary relief of their flowing,
But that relief would not last.

Once the tears dried up,
Resolve trickling back into my mind,
Self-hatred would be the only feeling,
The only thing I would find.

So, crying is not worth it,
Though I feel ready to explode.
I have run far from my past,
When the tears always flowed.

To return now, to break down my wall,
Of cold, placid emotion,
I think that would be a fall,
Some sort of pitiful demotion.