An annihilating addiction

The tears that roll down my eyelids and lay scattered all over them but never go beneath my eyelashes (as I enchain them midway and direct their movement) know how it feels to cry without feeling anything on the surface, without being aware of the chaos that convulses my soul, causing it to sire tears.

I detest them, but they’re stubborn like my lover who stayed (and still stays) stiff behind my back, being my back, even when I tried out umpteen ways to push him off. Maybe they love me, that’s why they never leave.

I love them too, I wish I could say that for love must be reciprocated, no?! But lo! My answer isn’t no. It’s just that I don’t know. I squeak at their presence, but I stress out in their absence.
Is that love?

/ an annihilating addiction /