Of all things, I wish I could cry.
But failing to cast out this burden,
Must be a river but one that won't flow.
It must be,
My anxious heart holding onto the pain,
For no more but without knowledge
Calling for more.
It must hurt not to fully be aware,
Must be a pile or heaps of water
Don't know if they should fill up or
It must be my mind, failing to alert me,
That I'm stronger than this, that my cup is not full.
My cup is not full, I've only held it up for so long
Seems like I'm toasting long to this pain.