Tears, Idle Tears

It was November on the farm I remember because, I could feel the fresh, cool crisp wind on my face. All those dried up brown piles of leaves on the ground that my dad was picking up and putting into large black plastic bags. I was 8 years old when my mom brought home Arnold, he was this pink little thing. With little white hair all over his body and a curly tail, my very first pig. We would become best friend over the years, we played every day as he grew older into an adult. Taking rides were one

no use as I continue my petty stormy cries as the minutes seemed like hours, and every tear feels like lava running across small rounded face. My mother despises all creatures including me of course. Talking trash about me in Tagalog to her coworkers. Messy, clumsy, irresponsible, she would rant. Before long it was lunch time, and the summer heat starts to roar . My dad peeps into my tent of leaves and tears, trying to cheer me up and telling me not to give up. He also likes animals and wants me

Tossing and turning, unable to sleep, remembering when she was a young girl, warm milk helped her to fall asleep, Marlene went to the kitchen and prepared some, but tonight it didn’t help. Picking up her purse, she whispered, “I need some fresh air.” “Should I go with you?” Jerry asked, but he knew Marlene enjoyed her ‘alone time’ as she called it. Struggling to accept the painful reality, she could no longer spend time with her mother. Driving down the tree-lined street with limbs hovering

calls or text. My heart began to shoot straight out my chest. I sat up and started to cry. My eyes cried out an ocean of tears. I'm lost. I don't know what to do. I’m even more devastated because I was in battle creek. There was no way I could get to my brother. I text my mom Me: “mommm???!” She picks up the phone and calls me. As soon as I picked up the phone I burst out in tears. Mom: “what's wrong nihveah?” Me: “Mom Tavi was just in a car crash and some people are saying there is 5 dead bodies

my past, present, and future, the lump that is worth millions of dollars, the lump that left everything it ever had. I swallow the lump in my throat, and I choke back the tears, the same tears that burned my face when I told Momma and Pop-Pop that I was leaving for America. I swallow the lump in my throat, I choke back the tears, and I take a deep breath, but all I taste is smoke. I whisper, “Bitsy, Mimi, my love, if you pray very, very hard, God might hear you and the sun could come out again.”

Resilience I always thought of myself as resilient, but after a day of working as a swim teacher, that word no longer seemed to describe me. I grew up playing “school” with my cousins and I taught at my church’s Sunday school. I knew that my destiny was to become a teacher, so when the opportunity to teach swim lessons sprung up I was quick to apply. After getting the job and completing training, I couldn't wait to teach my first class. Seven AM. The sound of my irritating alarm clock pierced

Wednesday Morning It is a typical Wednesday morning, the middle of the week, and I’m running late to school. It’s 7:43 and most students are making a mad dash to beat the morning bell, others linger around the green courtyard, catching up with friends, dreading going to class. I make my way through the maze of students, and I catch my best friend, Lauren, in the stairwell at the top of A building, both on our way to the history class we have together. We do not say a word, just share a look that

She does not know I’m the tear on her cheek And that tear that I am, is her cure I’m that shining tear Who will stick with her for years I am the arms that hold her Close so that she will have no fears She does not know I dream of her Every night, when I’m

ears ringing as his mom sits in the chair next to Patty’s bed, holds his frail, skeletal hand, and speaks to him in soft, gentle words. His admiration for this woman he calls Mom is immeasurable in this moment. A passing nurse smiles sadly at the tears that are still falling while administering Patty’s cocktail of morphine, painkillers, and saline. We all know that there is no cure, they are simply trying to make his suffering bearable, for him and for them. In 1982, that was all anyone could hope

You knew he was toxic. But that was probably why you kept coming back. Every time you make the decision to leave him, his charm still manages to capture your heart, imploring you to come back to him. Just one word, one touch was all it took. His toothy grin, the sound of his voice whispering your name. You'd do anything for him, and he'd proven time, and time again he'd do anything for you. Today he'd done one of the most extreme things he's ever done to prove his love to you. Your heart skipped