on sitting in silence and sadness...

the tears of a woman can be like the soft and steady rains that wash away the dust.
this dust gathers from a lack of life, a lack of movement, a lack of care.
she longs for humidity, not humility.
she finds a cloud and sits beneath it, awaiting its moisture and its comfort.
these tears are not meant to be wiped. that will only make a mess.
these tears are meant to fall.
and as her eyes begin to feel at ease & her lids become soft again, the tears overflow and spill onto her cheeks and eventually hit her chest.
the dust of her neglect begins to loosen and drain along with the tears.
she will cry until she is cleansed.