It is an axiom since you can remember:
Boys don’t cry.
Girls don’t swear.
So you bite your lip when hurt wells up inside
and you bite your tongue when you want to scream aloud
until you forget to remember what it’s like
to be you
and live like you own your soul.
But I say let your eyes grow foggy with the mist that chokes you up
Let your mouth run wild and scream “fuck you” through bare teeth
Let the soft, tender side that’s grown moldy
-kept in the dark as it has been-
Peer into the sunlight
Let the angry, furious fire you’ve smothered
in one long, agonizing keeping of your breath
Burn its way to the surface
You are allowed to feel.
You are allowed to be.
So feel. And be.
And every so often, let your body shake with the torrent of your tears,
Flip a finger with a vicious smile at the keepers of tradition.
You are allowed that, too.