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by MIA Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Prose · Emotional · #1991259
An expression of mixed emotions captivated in a single drop.
   
}With all her strength, she holds it back. The restraint seems so minute, but the release, contains the weight of the world.The integrity of this single drop begins with it's ease to slip past her strongest defenses. As she humbly maintains her honesty, what she stands for, her beliefs, and her regrets, with the slyness of a fox, it begins to trickle from her eye.
Her remorse and shame streaks down her cheek. The ever lasting feeling of weakness, such a battle fought seems to be lost so easily. Her hurt and pain inside, finds a single path way out. Yet an escape for how she feels inside seems to be unavailable. She remembers and tries to forget. Fights back the emotions dredged up with it. And yet, so easily subdued, by her constant failure. She's become accustomed to lose.
The past she's left behind and the future she pursues. All the change and the progress, suddenly seems, irrelevant, but she is not who she was, and owes none of her success to anyone but herself. It was her blood, her sweat, and yes, even a few of her tears, that carried her to where she is today. There was a time when she watched her feet as she walked. Somedays, now, she holds her head up high. She ran, walked, marched, and crawled on, despite everything holding her back. The hoplessness she once felt, rooted in self loathing and inadequacy, now germinates from the same soil but a different seed. It is one of frustration, exasperation, she is angry. She is angry at who she was, and at those who disregaurd who she has become. To treat the two as if the same, negates all that she has struggled to have done.
A mother weeps quietly over the mistakes that she has made, but stands up with stoicism, to the reprocussions of her ways. She can not change the past, or erase the things she has done. But she take the wreckage of what's left and build a new world. And be proud of her creation, for every pebble, brick, building, feeling of confidence, courage, pride, love, and respect are the fruits of her own labors. She still reminisces how she once felt before, and who she was. And it's okay to cry a little, feel angry sometimes, fearful of what is left to come. After she has allowed herself that release, she remembers, there is still work left to be done. Remembering to give herself credit, for the things she has accomplished. She hasn't gotten there because life was easy or fun.
A single tear, streams down her cheek. It cleanses her soul inside. Releasing all the things she's held onto, desperately trying to hide. That single drop expresses her hopelessness and her determination to fight, her fear and new found wisdpme, her hopelessness and her hope. It is the symbol of the biggest joys and heaviest sorrows, exhaustion from struggle and comfort in it's release. A single drop, so easily wiped away, but the thoughts, the memories, and emotions dredged to the surface to stay.
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