I Am Lonely
Alone in my thoughts — without expression.
I had expression when John was here.
I could talk to him about almost anything.
I talk to my husband but it’s not the same;
he’s not really open to my thoughts.
I still have to consider; will he accept this thought?
Maybe I’d better re-phrase it.
… Maybe I’d better not say it.
Julie is the only other person I could have SUCH an open relationship with.
When she was here I knew that no matter what I said,
she might get mad, but she would always, always accept me;
as the person I am.
It was the same with John.
Now I’m alone …
… *** … *** …
I’m Sorry, Mom
It seems I’m just spilling all over you.
Sometimes when I’m speaking
the muscles of your body tense
and scream at me,
“No. Don’t tell me; I don’t want to hear this.”
… but I go right on talking.
Usually, when that happened in the past, I’d stop.
… like with John and the subject of G0d; I’d stop.
But Mom, this time I can’t;
There isn’t anyone else, and I can’t put THAT on paper!
Oh dear; It’s coming out;
like the feeling of vomit being pushed out of your stomach.
I can’t stop.
— Written and illustrated by Belinda.
1989 – March
Next page = 1990 “What am I Leaving”
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