Leaking eyes: tales of a dank dark night.

It is in the darkest parts of night that they find you. When the quietness stretches… into a loud deafening emptiness; when the hollow ness of the night envelopes you as you lay in your bed, searching for arms that once wrapped their length around the roundness of your body, the small of your chest and the thin of your waist– It is in the darkest parts of the night that the tears find the brown of your eyes.

They will glisten and sparkle, lending shine to the dark of the skies. They will keep your searching face company… your face turned up to the sky looking for the miracle of an answered prayer or a slain worry. Your tears will overflow. They will flood the pillowcase, your bed. They will whisper about the heaviness in your heart, they will grieve for the worries that lace your sleepless nights. They will cradle you, oh the tears.

They will break your cover, shatter your shield. They will tease the remnants of your cheap mascara away, remind you of how stupid you are to wish off the feelings that rock the beat of your heart everyday… It is in the darkest parts of the night that the tears come out to play, reminding you that you are human, and it is okay to want what you want… and that love– it is nothing but a wild miracle, it should not scare you.

___

Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet.”

Roger Miller

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©The Short Black Girl, 2016.

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