When the tears won’t come
At the greatest depth of our sadness
When we feel so hopeless
We couldn’t fathom any space below
And yet a great pulling in our chests
Haunts us with the knowing that still
There are fathoms to be pulled

Within these sensations the dry eyes of
Sorrowed desperate beings hold
A wealth of insight regarding the
Machinations of an essential process
Hidden beyond the reaches of
Empathetic yet requited hearts
Lost to the imaginations of those
Embedded in the arms of belonging

When the tears won’t come
It’s because the bottom of a deep well
Has been pulled away impossibly
And where there was no space to give
A great void is rendered into being
Within fragile beings made desperate
In the wake of an impossible suction
Pulling into existence a hollow space
That we birth and give the name of Loneliness

Loneliness does not cry but asks to be filled
And the fragile beings now made
Sorrowed desperate parents give
Their unconditional love to the child
We fill Loneliness with belonging
With love no matter the source
And the bottom to a well is rebuilt
Of brittle sinews and hollow bones

The pressure rebalanced one might cry
For tears need a harrowing and
Strange balance to gift us relief
Or the tears may still withhold their gifts
Haunted by reminders of desperation