Dam(n)

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You’re about to cry and know you can't stop the tears. First, you get this tingling feeling in your nose, the wheels that control your dam walls beginning to rotate, opening the gates, inch by inch. Then, you feel the sudden weight behind your eyes, the water waiting to flow to its next destination, heavy with anticipation. After, you feel your first tears escape the corners of your eyes, watching as the water begins to flow under the gates, knowing there’s a lot more to come. Then, the shaking starts. From your chest to the bricks, you don’t know how much longer you can try to hold everything closed. Finally, the tears fall. The water rushes eagerly through the open gates, running blindly into whatever comes next. Now, this is where you and your dam differ. Everyone can hear the dam’s roaring water as it cascades downward. Everyone takes pictures and marvels at its beauty, in awe as the water sprays from one wall to the next. No one cares to hear your dam, though, hidden alone behind the closed door of your room, shaking from the pressure relief the tears brought. No one thinks your puffy face or bloodshot eyes are beautiful. Yet both of you are dams, one is gazed upon, and the other is ignored, silently begging for someone to notice its beauty finally.

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