I hear how I feel in the
clatter and
banging and
slamming and
rushing of all that I'm
doing; the
thump of my feet and the
grind of my teeth and the way that I
snap at the people I
care for; the way they
look at me as if I am crazy and evil and hurtful and nothing that's good.
I try to
talk to you but
nothing is working. I'm
seething and
fuming and
filled up with anger and
brimming with questions that
cannot be answered and
trying to
find me; the me that I'm proud of; the me who is
gentle and
kind and
forgiving; the me who is
easy to know.
My problem is that I am
wishing for something I cannot
imagine or even
see clearly. I'm
waiting to
know it and
looking outside me to find my
contentment and
longing for someone to take all the
problems and
troubles and
worries that seem to
beset me and set them at nothing and
let me have peace.
Then you
ask me a question and somehow I
answer and things start to
happen and maybe I'm
dreaming but somehow I
feel that you really
care for me and maybe just maybe you'll
wait till
I'm ready and
something inside me is slowly
uncoiling
and
slowly but surely I seem to be
finding the place in my self where I
like to be living
and
softly but brightly the tears start to
glisten in eyes that are hot from the dry brittle smiling
and
slowly I'm grasping that
all this is stupid. My fears are all empty. My anger is
pointless. Gently I thank you and rest my face on you
and
love you and love you and tell you I'm sorry
and
...
we're good again.