Razorblade Tears

by S.A. Cosby

Tears ran from his eyes and stung his cheeks. Tears for his son. Tears for his wife. Tears for the little girl they had to raise. Tears for who they were and what they all had lost. Each drop felt like it was slicing his face open like a razorblade.

It didn’t seem fair for a man to mourn someone abundantly that he had loved so miserly.

Human beings were wired to get used to just about anything. That didn’t make you hard. It made you indoctrinated.