But I think...

I know,
It's 2 millimeter-
in length,
Half in breadth
A droplet of burnt ice-
the furnace in my breast;
It'll hurt me...
...But I think, I'll let it burn;

I know,
It's happened today
The brim of my eye
No longer supports
The trembling humour within
It's too ecstatic-
It'll hurt me...
...But I think, I'll let it escape.

I know,
It'll rest,
Upon the curve of my cheek
But not for long-
It's in a race,
Against the next happiness
That may strike;
It'll hurt me...
...But I think, I'll let it win.

I know,
It'll run-
Though not too fast,
It'll graze it's way through
The ashen field of sorrow-
My skin;
It'll hurt me...
...But I think I'll let it stroll.

I know,
Gravity will stretch,
It's tired skin
But I hear it's silent fear
So I'll cushion it's fall
Upon my pillow: a sweet puddle of salt;
It'll hurt me...
...But I think, I'll let it fall.

I know,
Your tender hands will rise,
To efface this poignant globule
And help my lips curve
Gently; upwards-
It'll be painful for you;
It'll hurt me...
...But I think, I won't let you see.

I'll just stand in the rain,
And let it dissolve-
Into the nothingness of water:
All the salt wasted-
And the pain still intact;
It's just a tear;
It'll hurt me...
...But I think, I'll let it pass.