Soaked dusk

You sometimes grieve things you never knew you lost in the first place:innocence,hope,yourself.

It doesn't necessarily have to be a sudden outburst of emotion and it doesn't have to seep from time to time like a faulty pipe of rawness.
For me,it was a cathartic dusk,while sitting on the single concrete step outside my front door,with my knees buried into my chin and tears overflowing my pores.

I tried shedding the weight with a witness,but mother can only understand so much.I don't blame her-that's what marvelous friends are for,right?To understand your emotional skeleton,then still love you and stick around.I'm grateful.

I think I stopped being a child when I came to realize adults are as fragile and as broken as we are,but bigger and more willing to switch between masks.That was it:no more goals,no more turning point.Just a slow crawl through life and all its twisted wonders.

It was like a rush and a wave and a downpour all into one-and I was clean again.Miserable and disappointed,but clean.

I cried myself through a silent emotional breakdown and came out baptized in the end.