Cry

He.
Whether it be from rage
Or fear
Or longing
Or an illegible mix of all
He was sobbing.
Giant
Heaving
Body-shaking
Comparable to deserts.
The drought of his tears
Beginning
Long before the heat of steam
Stung at his eyes
Begging his body to abscond.
Paralyzed
From hatred
Or depression
Or surrender
Or oblivion
He is frozen where he lay
On the icy
Harsh tiles
Of the washroom floor.
In his whirling mass of a mind
There is no longer a reason
To keep his heart beating
Or his lungs inflating
So he waits to fade
Perhaps into pure nonexistence
So joy
Might exist once more