Down comes the rain

cartoon again violence
Image via Wikipedia

I’m still suspended here, quietly waiting for the sadness to come. It usually comes in small pieces and this confuses me.

Years ago, I would sob violently in moments such as these. Always on my bed, one hand clenching my comforter, and the other in a fist…pounding the bed beneath me. The salty taste of my tears would fill my mouth and my ears, staining the pillow with mascara.  I could have wiped the tears away, but doing so would require releasing that comforter…the only thing left to hold on to. There I lied, all night…drifting in and out sleep. Riding a hazy dream that was never certain if it was beginning or ending. It was always there and never there at the same time.

These moments seem quieter and much shorter. I focus on letting them come.  I am comfortable with the violence of these tears. The pain they wash away. But I can’t seem to cry.  My sobs trip on that breath.  I try to free them, but they can’t seem to come.  They take 2 seconds, and then let me rest.

I don’t know what this means, but I think there is a lie here somewhere. Deep inside me, still haunting this body. Not ready to be released.

Enhanced by Zemanta

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s