The waters within me

How do I let you flow?

The watery tears of my sorrow, my heartbreak, my grief?

Shall I reject you as I have been rejected?

Or shall I bottle you up and contain you?

 

I need tissues, I need toilet paper, I need napkins, I need pads.

I need something to block the flow of this sorrow from me. . . plug it up. . . stop it.

What about meds?  Where are the meds I need to stop this grief?

Is there an app? Invent me something that will stem the flow!

Please stop this flow of water from me.

 

Let me hold it in.

Block it, stop it.

Let it fill me until I explode and my waters run out of me,

down my face,

onto my clothing,

onto my keyboard,

off the desk,

soaking the upholstery of my chair,

creating a dark stain on the carpet that just flows and grows until my waters rise above me and short out my technology and leave me floating.

Like a dry brittle leaf.

 

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