A faint whimpering can be heard, though barely
Through a pillow littered with patches of salt-stained misery.

And my cheeks burn as the sorrow trickles down my face,
Stopping but briefly to collect at my chin
And drop as one unto my breast,
Signifying my defeat.

I have been broken.
Though secretly, and as I sit here amongst these unfeeling walls of despair,
I begin to gather my senses and rebuild those walls; Taller. Thicker. Stronger.

Mistake this not as the bitter taste of tears and regret,
But rather,
As tears whose purpose is to reflect those familar stars
The one's I've held so dear, when all others have failed me

If there weren’t so many hurdles to overcome, I would leave tonight