X. How I Learned to Cry

Mortality is but a moment, and pain in mirror. Though infinitesimal in time, it is infinite; in the face of death time is of no essence. Through pain immemorial I pressed on, without reason; In sheer instinct I could not let go. Unfeeling and detached, I watched myself try to live; but in the end that was the one thing I could not fake. Until I found that gift, those sweet notes, I knew not to be alive, to feel. Within rooms of suffering I shared and I spoke, they were my first steps and my first tears. That strange feeling on my cheek, is one I won't forget.

Free at last, a tear on my own face.