Trickling Towards Tomorrow

Everything Trickles
The tears, they trickle down my cheek
Just like everything else does.
Time trickles day by day,
Sometimes fast, like a river rushing towards the sea,
Often times slow, slow as my tears,
For it is these moments that I remember,
And all the joyful ones I keep discarding.
The tears come from many sources,
Whether it is the loss of something I've always had,
Or the loss of something I just regained, 
Or even just knowing that my life is considered taboo.
The streams come from many different sources,
Yet just two.
The two same sources with which I looked at you for the first time.
The eyes that cherished yours.
The eyes, that although now bloodshot, you said were flawless.
Those same eyes, they can see things trickle now.
And I can make anything trickle.
Well, almost anything.
The one thing that never seems to trickle is myself.
No matter what,
When I hold the cold, unyielding razor to my wrist,
I can never get my blood to trickle.
When I am near you,
I cannot let my feelings trickle.
Not even the most depressing,
Or the most wanted.
My life, it never seems to trickle from my body,
For each time I try,
You seem to trickle back in.