June 27, 2002
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When the silence lasts too long, the words come like worms, wiggling, tickling, making muck of my brain. Tears, they flow too easy, and I have no one to blame. The music was so beautiful, the words so full of life. Too much, it makes me feel too much and I have to hide my tear streaked face.
I don't even know why I cry.
I keep myself contained so I won't have to feel a thousand years of pain. I do. I feel it, and you did too. We would cry together. Tangled and wet, we would melt into another realm. But that was then, and this is now.
It wasn't even an original song you sang yesterday, but I cried as though it was my own.
"Did you like that?"
"Oh yes, I liked it so much I cried."
"AGAIN?!"
*laughing*
My friend, I trust you and I let you see my paintings. I inspired you, and you I. It will be good to have you here, have you near.
Melonie was on the machine. She said she would give me a referral so I could seek therapy. I think it's a sign.
I'll turn the worms into smiles.
Comments (3)
I'm a supporter of therapy... I went during my separation and eventual divorce. It was nice to have an outlet when everyone else was sick of hearing about my woes. Perhaps they weren't sick of hearing about it. Maybe they were even very willing to help... they just couldn't that's all. My pain was too much for them to handle. I felt their discomfort and I couldn't blame them. Therapy was the right outlet at that point. Go for it!
Sounds like a good plan.
I had no idea you were such a poet.
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