Hi Skweeky Love,
You should know by now that I always pray for you from the bottom of
my wittle bitty heart! My achy brakey heart! I feel as though my
heart breaks every time I see something like this from you.
You have described how you feel quite accurately.
Love you Skweeky, and prhrhrhrhrhrhrrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhraying,
Your Skweeks.
At 09:20 AM 2/28/2008, MariJean said:
>This limestone sculpture, this thing of grace,
>is not as it appears to the naked eye or to the touch.
>It is filled with holes, as if it grew up in a secluded cave.
>
>I know quite a lot about porusness, secluded caves, and the like.
>
>Today, I am porus, hypnotized by the steady drip, drip, drip, of my own tears,
>eating me away inside, as an inverted sculpture, eroded by the drip,
>drip, drip of water from above.
>
>Today, a touch would penetrate me, make a hole in me, where the
>blood would collect,
>where my tears would never dry, a hole where light would pass
>through to expose my inside.
>
>Today, I grieve the life of a dumb beast, a childhood of incest,
>torture, drunken screams that went on and on and on and on ...
>
>Today, I wish I was somewhere else, that my head was populated, that
>the vine-covered door had never opened, that these silent porus
>tears of the dust of the past, could stop
>falling into the vacuum of my self. (space deliberate)
>
>Pray for me, and maybe the acid heart-rain would stop ... I hope ...
>Some day ...
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