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.