Cup of Tea Poetry

What are these tears? Where is my laughter? From what place has this pain arisen? This trivial throbbing, gnawing, infuriating impair in my head. It dances in and overwhelms me. Pinching off bit by bit My since of reason, normalcy, and sanity. They have real pain. They know real anguish. They create new definitions to the word devastation. But they keep going out of obligation and pride. But I, I, tremble … Breaking at the mere initiation or occurrence of sadness. Holding my tears under the eye lids And imprisoning the screams in my throat. A release would offer an insult to the bearers of valid sadness. A suitable response for my hurt would be a simple shaking of the head, But my burdensome response is fear and helplessness. I feel the need to apologize to those who’ve endured deeper cuts. Therefore I will smile and convince myself with hollow reassurances Empty promises and void wisdom… To say…I’m okay.

Gasp! How long can I hold my breath? Let’s see! Holding… …holding… …holding… Me waiting for my more is equivalent to me holding my breath. I see it. I want it. I need it. I keep telling myself to be patient, But my cheeks have extended past the point of tightness. My eyes fiercely go open and shut. My heartbeat is racing erratically. I am yielding to the point of fainting. Yet the insistent hope of my more makes the near death experience worth it.