Once upon a time...

What happens when you can't keep track of a real diary.

Sunday, June 19, 2005

You can work out to exhaustion,
pound on the floor... and the walls,
scream into piles of clothing
... wail that you hate her.
Feel the tears just behind your eyes
They never quite make it to the front.

Sob for minutes at a time
Then start again
Bruised knuckles
Chest, arms, legs, stomach afire with effort
Throat raw
Eyes still dry

It does no good
Keep at it, though
Maybe it will help, eventually
Keep pivoting
Hatred, despair, self-loathing

Tear at your chest
Try to grip that awful covering
Try to let your heart breathe
To let it see again
To wither and die again
To scream its defiance again

You've rested long enough
Cry... for God's sake, Cry.
But you can't

Then she arrives
All you want to do is hide now
Just run, far and fast
Desperate for acceptance

Then there is a small tear
The words start
All your efforts at art are gone
This is only truth
Stunted, bare and ugly

With each word you become more defeated
It's awful
You must stop
But, only explain what you meant
Cover it up
You can not stop

It continues
Until, finally, the tears do come
What you strived for is here,
You fight it so hard now
Crying in front of her.
You know you have lost.

Bite it off
Clench your jaw
Swallow the pain
Close your eyes
Breathe it out in one long exhale
Regain control

Finally look at her
See her concern
A small smile
Throughout it all
She thought you were going to
Tell her to leave