Waterdrops

Patiently he was waiting for the next movement.  
Splash  
His eyes surveilled the situation until it hit the ground of the sink.  
Water  
It was the only form of noise reaching the silence in his head. He sat there and waited, waited, waited for the next drop to fall into the sink and light up his clouded mind, interrupt his shocking thoughts and tell him, he’s still alive.  
His chest was burning and being hurt by this feeling of falling, of guilt, of hatred and lying.  
Of dying.  
Splash  
His thoughts were far from religious. In fact, Jesus might have cried if he had heard what he was thinking.  
Speak aloud? No, never speak aloud. That’s stupid. He knew no one could help him effectively, he knew he would only worsen relationships, he knew the favorite thing people talked about were themselves.  
Splash  
Voices. Talks. Everyone wanted to talk to him, but no one would listen, listen to his words, listen to his view, they were the victims of his quietness, he was just not open enough to speak they said, not brave enough, smart enough, but how-    
How could he speak aloud against all the noise around him?  
Splash  
He did not want to be like them.  
Yet he wanted it so much, he’d give his life away to touch the simple mystery of love and praise and happiness and not worrying too much.  
Splah  
He was not special. Special was everyone around him. Told since they were young, they were now wise and grown and God knows they had the same problems as him but he knew, that they were more important than his cause they were special. How could he be special? What was he fighting besides himself?  
Another drop in the sink.  
Splash  
The love, he thought he might have deserved, remained a mere promise through all these years. To love him seemed to be a unbearable task - so he would just continue to follow the chant of dislike towards him, sing along with the crowd that might/ might not exist in the outer world as well.  
Splash  
He just felt so alone.  
He hated his home.  
His friends seemed so far away.  
Sometimes he wondered if they’d stay  
Forever.  
Or simply leave with all the laughter.  
And let him bleed out in the dark.  
Hurt and killed by his broken heart.  
Splash  
Time. He just needed more time. Maybe in a decade, maybe in three or fourteen he would learn to love himself, praise himself or even forgive himself for living. Maybe with some more time he would start to love the air he was breathing again.  
Splash  
To be young again. Oh what he’d give to be young again. A child’s best friend are its teddies and legos.  
Spl-  
No drop fell into the kitchen sink. His eyes eyes closed quietly and didn’t open up again.  
It stopped.
A single tear was shed from his eyes.  
What will happen when it stops?