These are the tears from a writer’s heart The waterfall of words slowly trickling down on these empty sheets of land, of another Earth, of another world. These are the dripping denotations of extremes; the welling of happiness or loneliness as each word-collection brims up to the top of the circled exit-way.

And so I write to you in limitless sentences and infinite wordless sentiments. Definitively as I’ve already drained every water-word of my literary heart. And so I write to you in these overrun and obscure words, deep as the deepest of trenches, just so I could wear out the sleeplessness of my endless cry. I write to you to let this all out, one by one, word per word, sentence after sentence until you drown from the stream of my wordless words and thoughtless thoughts. Until your lungs fail, until you reach for air, and call out for me.