Hey, um, can someone teach me how to feel? My heart must have gone on vacation or something.

My body aches

my chest heaves but no sound, no soul can escape my lips

they're clamped too tightly together

in fear that even one crack left exposed

would leak a noxious, deadly substance; fatal grief and remorse

poisoning every living, happy thing in a ten mile radius.

My eyes blankly stare

as I try to feel,

plead my body for some response

but everything seems shut down

the shutters are closed, windows barred, lights off.

They ask how I am dealing with things.

Somehow the muscles of my face are so attuned to this farce

that they can pull into a hopeful smile on demand

only to drop like puppet strings cut halfway through the act

as soon as the interrogation is over and done.

My eyes betray me in the night

bone-dry in the only setting they're allowed to feel

the only time I allow myself to feel

I physically can't.

I'm too accustomed to acting, lying, smiling

unfeeling

numb

that when the only thing in the world I want to do

IS LAY IN MY BED AND SOB...

i can't.

the tears won't come anymore.

not until I'm surrounded by people,

buzzing with tedious life and work and drama and blah

at the worst possible moment

two small waterfalls begin.

You know I love waterfalls

but only in seclusion.

But it seems the time for convenient, satisfying, fulfilling waterfalls

is over.

just as the sun sets, 

just as a plane flies halfway around the world, 

just as dreams of waterfalls turn into dreams of taking the final leap,

just as dreams and hopes and chances and moments disappear all to quickly

waterfalls are for dreams

and tears will stay hidden

and hope will remain 

(but only if I can muster the strength for it).