Crybaby

To the fourth grade quiet kid crying on the playground:
                                                           keep crying.
Let the burning blur in your pupils reverberate your vision
envision maculas becoming galaxies of simultaneous starbursts
normalizing irises marbleized in emotional flow

      Drift
in whatever you are feeling at this very moment
                                                         Drown
out cacophonies of every synonym for “crybaby”
your classmates can regurgitate

Hold on to your emotion
regardless of how hard
it’s pulled from your grip

The greatest thing you can be is emotional
because breakdown doesn’t equate broken down
doesn’t equal malfunction error glitch in your system

The greatest thing you can be is broken
metal bends beyond repair; skin is resilient
cut wrists will heal; cut wires won’t regenerate
biology is not biomechanical

It took until nearly twenty-three for me
to learn having heavy emotions
is just in my biology
and I will never let shame be programmed into me

For being that fourth grade quiet kid
crying on the playground
that crybaby
tracking muds from trailing tears in the dirt

I learned
the greatest thing you can be is yourself
when nobody is watching:        yourself
as staring gazes and whispers fill space

asking why you’re sobbing so much
It’s because you’re human.

The greatest thing you can be
                                               is human.