Hollow Tears

My tears feel heavy. 
They feel heavy, 
and hollow 
at the same time. 

Full of something 
I don’t quite understand. 

With a weight 
that’s so familiar. 

It pulls. 
On my mind 
and I feel lost in the ache of it. 

I am tired, 
and the tears fall. 

I am overwhelmed, 
and the tears fall. 

I am angry, 
and the tears fall. 

I am sad, 
and the tears fall. 

I miss my happiness. 
It feels so far away from where I am. 
Although it was here a moment ago, 
I can’t seem to find it. 

And I am tired. 
And I am overwhelmed. 
And I am angry. 
And I am sad. 

And my tears are heavy. 
But they are hollow.

The path to enlightenment; my path to enlightenment, runs through a forest. It’s a canopy of darkness and uncertainty. Fraught with shadows that look familiar, and brambles that catch. It’s terrifying in its beauty. And still, I walk on. The sun peeks through every once in a while, offering me a glimpse. Of the brightness and light and joy on the other side. I find myself basking in it. Savoring it every time it appears. Filling myself. Allowing it to darken my skin. Settle itself under each layer. So that I can carry it in me with every step. The trees are thinning. And the light remains, but every once in a while, the clouds come over. And it darkens again. And it feels heavy. I don’t know what I’m doing. And I can’t see where I’m going. I just know, that I have to keep going. Not because of fear. Not because of hope. But because I’m determined to see more than this forest. I’m determined to reach a destination. That no longer feels like exhaustion, or pain, or ache. Where the path is wide, and surrounded by a beautiful forest. That doesn’t feel like a prison.

Because I’ve tasted my happiness. I know my joy. I’ve glimpsed my freedom. And I am tired. So, I rest. And I reflect. And I fill my basket with things that help. And still, I tire. And I keep going. Because while my path may be only mine. I have people walking with me. People that reflect my heart. And all of that freedom that I have glimpsed. And I refuse to stop walking and let go of their hands. and leave them here. In this forest. But I am tired. And I am lonely, not because I am alone. Because I’m the only one that sees where we are. Sees the truth of where we are. But I’m the only one... who understands and sees where our feet go.

They say this journey is not one that requires effort. Or work. But it sure as hell feels like it. Because I’m tired. And I’m resentful. Of being the one they call the chain breaker. The one that doesn’t break the cycle but recognizes it. The one who changes it. Who steps out of what was, and into what is becoming without knowing what it’s becoming. I wasn’t taught to trust safety. I was taught to trust fear. I was taught to fear the unknown. I was taught to doubt myself. I’m reparenting myself. I’m teaching myself safety. And I am tired. And I think, in this moment… that’s okay.