On crying as an exercise

When i am home, i cry regularly. Almost every day. It clears off my mucus and opens my nose and lungs.
The warm tears that flow out sting in the eye. But it feels good... For after the red eyes, there is a prolonged moment of calm. No word is spoken, so sound uttered. I hear the heartbeats of silence.
I cup my hands and feel the emptiness. All over again.
I try and shut out the people who have caused me pain. But to be scratched upon soon enough to make me weep again.
I sit on a stage, surrounded by eyes. Being vulnerable, becoming affected and tormented and feeling the throbbing pain from within. It subsides... Only to mingle in the salt and the sea. But i stand again. With salty tears in my Palm, dropping off the warm red cheeks burning their way down.
And the cycle continues.
So i cry, to keep the cycle moving. To feel clean and to be one with the salt and the water... Again and again.