My Tears

My tears mean so much to me that I hate to let them leave.

I'm not the sentimental type, never wearing my life on my sleeve.

My exterior furrowed, personality raspy yet it suits me just fine.

Some days are harder than most and I feel like it's the end of the line.

Now I have this great detachment from myself and the world as it is today.

Once assured and steady, control escapes me and bitter things I say.

As I said at the beginning, I'm stingy with my tears or just maybe I’ve used them all too soon.

Could my heart unhardened and the clouds in my eyes disappear with the promise of a new moon?

All merely thoughts of the present time that I care not to repeat, whining wastes redemption.

Releasing this conflict that lives within me of course will take time.

There is a beautiful, compassionate loose soul out there and I do believe it's mine.