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    By Sarah Langford
It took fourteen years for her to forget.
Fourteen years for the pain to go away, for the heavy thoughts to fizzle into
A calm wave of acceptance.
Fourteen years for the last tear to fall,
Tears that left materialistic traces of the rapid river that she knew rushed through her mind,
Tears that let her sorrows be known.
The evidence of that everlasting river leaked out from its home,
Trickled through her skull, and engraved itself down her cheek
So that others could too see and feel the heaviness that existed out of sight. 
Each had its own path, some went slow and others went fast.
But not a single one was calm. Until fourteen years had passed,
And there were no more tears left to be shed.
Pictures framing the walls had never been removed, yet dust gathered on each frame
Which reminded her that the past cannot be kept in the present no matter how hard you may try.
Memories were not constant, and as time passed it became harder to preserve them.
Time and memories faded away into the past and so the tears that were waiting to be shed
Had slowly forgot their purpose in cascading down her face.
And so fourteen years later, there was peace.