But my story’s too long
The time, too short
And the replies come too fast

I opened my mouth but it triggered the bomb inside me, hitting me with a deafening silence in such force and speed that I found the words which are about to leave my mouth torn into broken and unrecognizable pieces.  The debris of which traces the shape of my tongue, fills  the gap between my teeth and traps the whole void into a standstill.

But my eyes are too dry
The tears, too tired
And the look of pity came too early

I took off my eyeglasses and wipe the invisible droplets hanging from my lashes and down to my cheeks in the darkness of night. I tried catching one  in a vial in order to show others that they are real but my tears are too quick to hide. I guess they were too used to the comfort of going down that it hurts for them to look up in daylight just to see from their very own surface the look of untold sympathy from others.

But my lips are too cracked
The motion, too exhausting
And the response came too eager

I tried to cut the edge of the straight line and form on each side a curve to make everything okay once more but the line becomes too stiff and the curve too wide that they seem to falter at any given moment. They seem too strained holding such  position of physical torture that I often hear them begging to be rested when there is only silence to meet and empty rooms to talk to.

But my lungs are too spent
The air, too imposing
And life is too busy to care

I touched the area where I can feel the fluttering of my heartbeat and in there, I felt echoing vibrations from something else screaming inside that no, it doesn’t  want to anymore and that it is already time to stop such a useless action. I nodded. And like a mother to her suffering child, I whispered the words I knew were inevitable.

“It is okay to let go now.”

And the void closed
The lines rested at last
And all was still.