It has always been interesting to me that tears have a taste. Even more, that they taste salty.  It’s strange to me that sadness can be so tangible through so many sensations and so often saltiness accompanies wetness.  Salty tears crust to the face and the act of not only releasing tears but an electrolyte actually helps to waken the eyes a bit.  It helps to release other emotions of bitterness and anger, resentment and guilt that were trapped somewhere in the cells and finally climbed it’s way out the eyes.   In a way I feel like the water and salt are wanting to be in a space that doesn’t have to cover anything up, it no longer holds the job of keeping the things that see protected.  

Salty tears pour through many different forms.  Sometimes they are expected, desired even. Sometimes they are incredibly helpful at making a heart feel lighter.  Yet there are some days when it just hurts so damn much to cry. When your heart is already in a space of complete teetering that adding an emotional response can be almost detrimental for the cracks in your heart that are just building.  Yet, those are the days when I think tears are the most necessary. The times when the salt pours out of those cracks so they can finally breathe, finally open, so they can close. Salt is a voice speaking “be hurt and heard. You will be okay”.