Carving Its Path

The tears build up,

Threatening to break the barrier,

And at last they burst through the wall.

The droplet flows down,

Out of my eye,

And onto my cheek.

But I don't let it stop there,

I haven't even the drive to wipe away a single tear from flooding down.

It keeps going,

And the wetness is so very tangible,

Slowly, deliberately, taunting me as it slithers down my cheek.

As it makes its way down to my lips,

Where they part and allow for the salty liquid to get in.

I taste the teardrop on my tongue,

It leaves a taste of sorrow to linger,

And it left a wet path,

Carved onto my face,

For any more that would like to follow.