Sunday Sessions #7

This poem is me being a bit vulnerable, also written a few years back; but, living in my mind, it sometimes gets dark. Know this though: darkness cannot survive in the light. And the truth really will set you free, even when you don't feel like it.

Swallowing tears 

I've gotten accustomed to swallowing tears. That feeling that builds up in your throat... Pressure... Pain... 

I know the taste of it

Hard, dry...

 Bitter and acidic. 

It's familiar to me: like an old friend that you no longer have a connection to. It's out of place, maybe not even welcome but you let it in because a part of you refuses to forget. Walls come down easily. 

I've been lying to myself this whole time saying they're easy to build but harder to break. 

They come down quietly. 

They come down when you look into the eyes of someone you love and your lips tell the lie but you still walk away feeling exposed.

 "I'm ok." 

Try again. 

"I'm fine."

Even worse. But the truth doesn't set you free. 

Not always.

Not this time.

It's the kind of release that doesn't give you relief. 

When you're swallowing tears