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a place for my words

written by: zenning

i just need a place to put my words, my energy. 45 minutes before he arrived home, i noticed i was mentally collecting a list of issues/ concerns/ things to bitch about/ fights to start. it's a rotting pool of mucous and emotional vomit - stewing inside, always accessible. i swam around in it for a bit and then i remembered writing yesterday, writing about my anger. i gathered myself up and set upon the computer - proceeding to get distracted by things that open automatically for me.

and then he was home. when i'm in this place, i am disappointed by him, critical of him, angry with him. i can't remember that just yesterday he was my love.

my love enters, asking how i am. i can hardly hear. i am an addict staring at my poison while someone is speaking to me. all i can hear is the roar of the addiction, the song of the poison. all i hear is the anger shrieking at me.

telling him about my list, not the contents, but the idea of it - i am reminded of the adage "if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." i am silent. it's all i can do to stay in my seat, to breathe, to desist screaming aloud everything in my head!!! i am full of tears. one escapes; my love catches it, strokes my arm and tries to draw me out.

i suggest he wash the dishes - i am too raw, to afraid of being hurtful, to be close to anyone right now. i write. as i write some of the pressure dissipates - i hadn't even noticed until it was clearing.

the pool of vomit still roars but i've taken a step back and turned my body away. i close my eyes.

is writing enough for now; i'm always afraid i'm not doing enough. sitting is so scary to me - i am always thinking i will sit in the future.

Comments:

Tue, Mar 11, 2008 at 8:17PM

WOW! I know exactly how you feel! You really did a great job of describing it! good luck!

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