tears AND words

I have been searching, searching for something deep inside myself. There's a place in me I can't seem to reach. A longing, if you will. Longing for...something, for anything.

I don't know if the tears help. Do they? Do they help?

There's a longing in my bones, they write like a transcript. I can't make out the symbols.

I don't know if the words help. Do they? Do they help?

My fingers aren't long enough; they can't reach what I want. No! What I need. They are too short. Too short. Why aren't they long enough?

Images swirl around, around, around. They blur and make no sense. I cry, but the tears don't help. I talk, but the words don't help. They never help.

Your eyes don't help.

Your arms don't help.

You don't know. You'll never know. Will I ever know?

Why do I break like I do? The fragility. Shattered glass, shattered bone. Just snaps.

Like a floodgate, the tears come, the words come. But do they help? Do they?