tears

“It is better to bleed than cry,” or so the saying goes. But, sometimes bloodshed is simply not enough to make the pain go away. I learned this many years ago as I tried to make the pain within me lessen by increasing the pain on the outside. I carved into my flesh. I watched the blood spill out. But, the pain didn’t even compare with the hurt I still felt inside. When I look into his eyes spilling over with tears and his face contorted with frustration, I can vividly recall the feelings of pain and confusion and the inability to express it. Sometimes I watch from a distance. Sometimes I hold his hand and I am certain that he transfers more feelings to me than just the gritty filth that coats his palms. Sometimes I see his rotting teeth when he belly laughs. Sometimes I wonder how he made it out of the house without any pants (or underwear), but then I remember that he doesn’t have a house to leave. Sometimes I witness his impressive ability to use his big brown eyes, matted hair, and general filthiness to gain both the pity and the leftover food of passersby. But, never do I question the crocodile tears that leave streaks on his sunken cheeks. Sometimes the tears begin because he gets pushed off the swing. Sometimes the tears begin because he wants a ball he can’t have. Sometimes he cries over normal four-year-old things. But, sometimes the tears go beyond that. Sometimes tears are the only way he knows to express the pain he lives each day. The tears come, but doubtfully could he tell you why as this is all he has ever known. Never has he known a warm bath and a full tummy before snuggling with a teddy bear in a cozy bed. Go ahead and cry, buddy. Sometimes crying expresses the feelings bleeding can’t…