Every Tear is a Soliloquy

I think I cried, when I tumbled into this uncertain world of madmen and shooting stars.
Tears of confused frustration fusing with my mother’s droplets of joy.
Yes, I think we both cried.

Every tear is soliloquy.

When all that was known was left. I cried then too.
More tears of confusion. I watched them spill in the taxi window, my pain reflected in the eyes of a stranger.
Hot streaks that burnt invisible scars into brittle flesh. Forever reminding me of that day. Forever binding me to that well.

Every tear is soliloquy.

You cried when you told me you loved me. Sweet tears, I remember how they twinkled in the light, bending and warping the rays of the sun.
As if they were diamonds trapped in rain.

Every tear is a soliloquy

My tears shall be forever black.
Trails of melted liquorice that bleed out of my sunken eyes.
Hissing as they make contact with indifferent earth.
I have many more tears to spill.
More scars that will undoubtedly disfigure the flesh.
Perhaps one day I will stare into my mirror and forget whose face stares back.
Still in these writhing hours of the morning.
I know that

Every tear is a soliloquy.