I Didn't Used to Cry Like This

This is one of the first poems I wrote as a result of my emotions and feelings being too big to be contained any longer. In a way, it doesn't feel like I wrote most of these poems. It feels as though, another part, a set of parts, many different parts of me, wrote them. But not me. I just have control of the hands. But there were others choosing the words.

This is an invitation to mourn.

I didn't Used to Cry Like This

Lips pursed and contorted

Like a twisted wet cloth

Being wrung for all that’s inside.

Moisture gathers in tiny puddles

Stuck to the ledges 

Held only by surface tension

Not allowed to come out from inner tension.

Then I remember it's ok to cry.

A sob breaks through learned behavior

Like lava breaks the earth’s crust.

That which cannot be rationalized 

Must be expressed.

Tears fall down heavy

Wet

Sad

Lips trembling now

Followed by the silent exhale of depravity.

There’s too much pain.

More sobs

More tears

I didn’t used to cry like this.

My tears were composed. 

Elegant. 

But those tears were always for others.

Tears for the sick.

The oppressed.

The poor.

The needy.

I was allowed to cry those tears

But not tears for me

I hadn’t felt it yet

I didn’t know pain

Just repression

So these tears 

Ugly

Tired

Sad tears

These tears are mine. 

I didn’t use to cry like this,

But that which cannot be rationalized 

Must be expressed.