I feel the tears prick my eyes
And I'm so used to it,
Swallowing the pain like I swallow saliva
(without a second thought, pressing my tongue against the roof of my mouth because I read somewhere it would shelter me from grief)

My throats closing up
But I clear it, dislodging the memories
Accumulated inside,
But I think something broke free
And now I'm left unhinged
(its like there's a clog missing inside my heart, where the atrioventricular gears should whir)

One drop falls down my cheek
And others follow:
Its gonna be a drizzle soon.
As they evaporate from my face
I can feel more coming,
The moisture condensing in my eyes
(the rain cycle of my grief is too irregular for your charts, it leaves all the weather men baffled and even the Engish can't comprehend the absence of sunny days)

- i wish I had an umbrella