Cry Me a River

My tears provide a temporary home for my emotions. They are more than a mere mixture of salt and water. They hold hurt, fear, insecurity, and anxiety. They hold the time Andrew died. They hold the time I was mocked for my religion.Or the time I was four, and held down at the dentist office. They envelope my weaknesses. The liquid itself is clear, but the core of each drop is blurred with indecision. I feel my emotions accumulating and building a wall around my sense of rationality as they form a pool in my ducts. When the water becomes to deep to be bound by the lid, they overflow and begin to tumble down; finding a new place to soak with burden. As they vacate my skin, I'm extricated from the ill-feelings each drop encases. After all, tears only remain for so long. And after they serve their purpose--releasing what we feel, but can't express--they evaporate. Taking with them my hurt, fear, insecurity, and anxiety. For my tears provide a temporary home for my emotions.