Poetry

I am once again caught weeping for unresolved quarrels with long ago loved lovers

I shudder to think, that in a blink, I might so easily be swept into the cyclonic winds of tearfulness.

I fear it’s just, a simple test of mental stimulation, inside my ocular precipitation.

My heart pushes images of unmourned passings and opens the undeleted files of agonized adorations across my mind’s monitor.

I honor her with droplets of salt ridden eye rain, I acknowledge the pain, by the moist tracks burning into my face.

They leave a trace of the hurt that I refused to feel and the torment caused by the heel of her unrepentant boot.

I know that it’s the root of this unforgiveness tree, I find growing in me, the tears that I cry inside provide fuel for it to grow.

I know that if I weep aloud, the tree withers and is disallowed to grow but I capture the pain in memory,

To avoid its repetition and etch its essence into my presence and present, refusing to keep it bound and bundled with the other ancient agonies in the past.

As I peruse the painful pack of impairment herded into my heart, crying is inevitable, an easily brought afterthought.

An outward representation of an inward painful sensation, that I wish to bring an end to, or pretend to not feel.

I repeal my innocent plea, realizing it was me, that opened the gate and left it agape like the chasm between heaven and earth.

For what it’s really worth, I need to spill tears because my real fear is there will be no space to placate the throbbing, and I'll be left to replace ache with sobbing and once again, I'll be caught weeping.