Change

Sorrow for what must change;

Underneath layers of self I seek to know,

Why must I always run.

Going, going, going,

Fast enough to forget that which makes me so grievous of repeal.

When I think of change my heart, it races

My mind, it jumps to ‘what if’s’ and ‘how to’s’ until it all comes crashing down as an avalanche of feelings I cannot bare.

So I run.

I run to the familiar.

I run to sin.

I run far enough away to drown the sorrow buried in my heart.

But don’t be fooled, for that sorrow is still there.

It’s there like the searing lava of a volcano ready to burst at any disturbance.

And like the lava burns the face of the mountain, so my tears soften my dry cheeks for it has been too long since they were soaked in any feeling.

All of my warm, salty feelings carve a path down my face, into my mouth, onto my clothes, and the sleeve of my shirt.

But now, I am free.

Two big, blue, red, puffy eyes later I am free of the pressure I put on myself to be perfect and to be peaceful.

Who was it that told me being peaceful meant being perfect? That it meant not shedding tears?

I do not know, but what I have learned now is that change is hard but keeping my feelings locked within me is even harder.

So, may change be that which grows me and that which shows my humanity in all of it’s beautiful imperfections.