Will I be washed away?

Will I be washed away?

I wish my heart was open
Allowing tears to flow.
Free,
Without shame,
A healing flood I deny myself,
The key hidden I know not where.
One day possibly it will not matter,
The key,
For the barrier will crumble perhaps.

I sense cracks forming in the dikes,
Allowing whatever behind to flow in freedom,
If only a little.

What is it like,
That expression,
Tears?
Will I be washed away?

In so many ways communicated tears.

Expressing anger,
Sorrow,
Joy,
And mourning.

Gently flowing for some,
Others a raging torrent…..
Something hidden deep within perhaps one day to arise,

Self control abandoned,

The freedom of expression no longer denied.

What song will I on that day sing?
When the flow begins,
And the walls crumble,
Allowing the tears to flow.

Will I will I be washed away?

Strange me writing this,

For in younger days I would consider it weakness,

Now I know strength is needed for salty tears.

A gift I yet posses,

Hidden behind walls high and strong,
Built with the mortar of repression perfected.

Perhaps tears are different for men?

If so, if this is true,

It is a heavy burden indeed.

For strength to be considered weakness
Forges a prison secure,
From which there is no escape,
Accept in death.

Perhaps one needs to be willing to be washed away.