On Holding Back Tears

Somewhere, there is someone
with tears that attempt to be kept from falling.
Maybe a graduation or funeral is the place,
or perhaps a bride on her wedding day.
Somewhere, some lone stranger will sniff and look away,
like a criminal caught in the act of a most heinous crime,
As others, who are not so shy, crowd around
with emotions splattered full on faces, like fresh paint hitting a dry ceiling
or as egg yolk flying through the air and landing on hard tile.
Tears trickle down slowly, gathering on cheeks like a church congregation;
leaving a memoir on soft tissue paper.
The chest of the stranger with forbidden tears grows tight with each breath,
as if being choked by an invisible hand.
Every (inhale) shallow (exhale) intake of air is a razor
slicing through the unchartered waters of emotional relief.

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