Therapy Bits

My thanks to Missy for hosting! The challenge this week is to use the line “some might say its wrong to” in our piece.

Missy’s MAD Challenge # 042 – M.A.D. Works

Some might say it’s wrong to cry,
that tears are tiny rebellions best left unshed—
that sorrow has no currency in a world sprinting toward profit and pride.
But what of the rain that grieves against the windowpane,
each drop a soft syllable in the language of letting go?

Some might say it’s weak to unravel,
but I’ve seen strength in the sway of willows,
in the hush of a throat swallowing grief like honey—
slow, golden, aching.

There are days when the body becomes a cathedral of ache,
and the only liturgy it knows is the silence between sobs.
There is no shame in that holy hush.
No shame in letting the heart speak in salt and trembling.

The world is full of sharp edges and headlines that wound,
and sometimes all that keeps us tethered
is the warmth of water rising from within,
the proof that we are still soft, still breakable,
still human in a world that dares us daily to be stone.

Let me cry, then—
not out of defeat,
but out of devotion to all that still moves me,
to all that I’ve lost and found again in the swell of feeling.
Let me flood the room if I must.
Let me wash away the lie that we must be dry to be strong.