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These Days

The fragility of emotion that makes us human.

By: Rebekah Orth

These days, I am always holding back tears.

If you asked me to cry, I could at any moment.

I cry because the sun feels good.

I cry because the man on the street smells like oranges.

I cry because someone said something smart.

I cry because humans aren’t so complex, we are simple creatures, lost.

I cry because of periwinkle paint.

I cry because the geese get to swim in the sunset.

I cry because my brothers are healthy, like growing trees.

I cry because the world is good.

But I also cry because I am flawed.

I lied, I lie often. I failed, I fail often.

I feel guilt in my toes.

I am addicted to everything everyone else is addicted to.

I pity myself, I bite my nails off, I will die.

But I must say it feels good to write down your flaws.

To hold a flame to all your ugly guts, and see that it’s all just human blood and flesh.

I am bones and brains.

I am a creature, scratching, searching.

I am trying.

I am crying.


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