A single tear. A silver fluid note. A drop of a heart breaking story; its salty roots churning with the Earth. Raked by an oily eyelash, seeming so huge, filled with debt, but only a tiny speck in our world, it quivers down on its journey, delivering the message of death, destruction, lies, hate, abuse, instability, or even love or trust gone wrong.
Grasp the teardrop in your finger and it will cut through you like a blade. Talk to it and it won't respond. Listen to it and you are hypnotized. Taste it and you are poisoned. Leave it alone, it grows and exacerbates. When it comes to this wet, salty cry, the only thing you can do is let it know you are watching. Eventually, it will evaporate and be replaced by a clone of itself to haunt its beholder once more.
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My Chemical Imbalance
Hi. I'm lost. This is my journal.
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mychemicalimb4l4nce
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