I like the feeling of tears rolling down my cheeks,

Cool and wet and smooth and cohesive -

Everything I'm not.

Cracking hands pull at my too-tight collar,

Hands that are shaking something fierce.

Tilting my head back, I revel in the moisture

Soaking it up like a sponge.

And then my eyelids fall shut,

Squeezing all excess liquid onto my outer lids,

Letting it slide easily down hearty cheeks

And congregating on my jaw line.

Then drip by drip it continues its path,

Blotching the open pages scattered across my desk.

The dryness satiated, I return the eye drops to the top shelf of my desk

And return to the work at hand.