The salty tears burnt my face,
but the blaze withdrew without a trace.
Still I cry, for I miss the pain.
The crimson bright strokes that bled down like streams,
now lost forever, fizzled out as it seems.
Still I miss that sorrowful rain.
As the tears would slowly dry,
I’d hang on to each moment, I would not say goodbye.
Still I frown, for I miss the sting.
I feel the heat
as my heart slows it’s beat,
but I really don’t regret anything.