The fun of laughter

           I didn't know tears could hurt so much. That
ice inside was way more easier to deal with. Ah yet
what constitutes as fun but that of sarcastic
empty laughter.

           Still pressing one foot in front of the other,
squeezing muscles taller and raising head against
bitter cold breathes is what I should do.

          Conversation cracks me. The fine edges
of a wound that just knows the perfect tear will
either heal or create more pain. Nevertheless
the mind, the spirit is strong even though I am
at my weakest.

         Dare I ask any for help. The trails of crumbs
turn rancid and the steps tender. Though I press
forward.

         Funny how the words on glimmer over the
silence. So softly the tightness across soul spreads.
Ever so much that unnoticed until last moment.

        Typical are the lines to rant but expressions
are halted by one. This is called laughter. The irony
in the given words of others. Say my gratitude
because it is respectful but screaming at them
through my eyes.

        Though so many are blind. Ah the depth of
a smile.

         Clarity offered, feed through assaults. Yes
I get it. So clear, so deep but doesn't mean the layers
have to be piled higher. Once is enough as I find
myself slowly, building ~ restoring.

        Pleasing all I can but abolishing myself. Why?
Ah yes well another smothered silence, another
pulling of tears. Yes another day.

          To enjoy a moment. Quietly and not to really
need the deafness of silence.

         Though what is the necessity if not to help all?
What is the fun in the icy interiors to gather? No
noise to find a home, a warmth. Alas that is what
was request.

           So I stand, enjoyment all in a little bit
of those breaths. Yes a hope that clears, demands
yet fades. Ha.

         Did you know tear could cut like that?
Could press the depth of unborn ice into motion?
Certainly you did not for then you would have
known me.