in praise of falling apart
By Abigail Taylor (aka haikupunk)
At some point, I stopped crying.
The tears get stuck somewhere in my face,
blocked behind some imaginary dam
I built, I’m guessing, to keep me safe.
Recently I asked myself, upon choking back—
it was during a film or maybe a play—
when did I stop crying?
I used to do it once or twice, a day or a week:
let myself fall apart and melt like honey.
So, I’ve been rereading books of poetry
and listening to sad records, happy ones too,
sitting still, teaching myself to cry again.
To let myself unravel
even *gasp* in front of another person.
A person who also cries.
And then today!
I couldn’t stop the rain.
And lo,
It wasn’t even scary—
it even quenched
this droughted, bursting heart.
How strange that I’ve come
to yearn for a flood.
© Abigail Taylor, 2026.
She has beautiful words, I really enjoy reading her work. Blessings
“May Light always surround you; Hope kindle and rebound you. May your Hurts turn to Healing; Your Heart embrace Feeling. May Wounds become Wisdom; Every Kindness a Prism. May Laughter infect you; Your Passion resurrect you. May Goodness inspire your Deepest Desires. Through all that you Reach For, May your arms Never Tire.” ? D. Simone ________________________________