A Happy Birthday

Tue, 08/13/2013 - 11:28 -- JMcKoy

The welling tears form a layer of haze from the outer to inner corners.

I hold my breath hoping that the liquid will recede like a wave returning to its base from shore.

With an inhale, the wall breaks




At the tip of the strands of tears is the leader: a hot, thick bulb pulling the rest of sadness from my eyes with force.

The more I think, the quicker the legions come.

Today I’m no longer a kid.

I’ve entered the teenage league.

“Why are you crying?” Mom asks compassionately. “I don’t know,” my trembling voice says back.

As I stand in her familiar embrace, connected like during my time in her womb, the top of our heads stop at the same point in space.

Now I feel wetness on my neck. Mom is crying too. And as the tears gush from her eyes, the blessings rush from her lips at an unsteady pace. Pausing. Breathing. Crying.


Bailey Reynolds

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