Tears for cheeks

A short poem/passage vividly written on the pain of crying.

The fresh hot tears rolled down my face with the menacing threat of more. Their damp tracks tangible against the starkness of my cheek. They rolled off the tips of my eyelashes over the smooth expanse of the roses of my cheeks and brushed sweetly against my lips, the taste of the ocean greeted my tongue providing a false sense of tranquility. Then with the promise of more they pored uncontrollably. My face contorted into the pain that only loneliness could paint on a canvas so seemingly serene. The pain was there burning at my heart, licking against my heart like an uncontrolled flame, until it made its own peace and struck the sensitive centre of my being. The cries wracked my body. My torso convulsing with sobs and my arms and legs providing a cage or a means of restraint around my shaking ribs. Perhaps if I gripped myself tight enough the tears would subside. And they did, hours into the early morn when my body took its last shake, it's last sob a meek and subservient tear made it's way down the tracks to my lips where it's predecessors had. It was then sleep gave me mercy and dragged me under the covers of my eyelids.