*1972 – WHAT I FELT LIKE AT 20

written early June 1972

(and no, I was not on drugs when I wrote this!  It is simply the clearest expression of who I was and how I felt on my insides as a result of having survived chronic and severe, horrendous abuse at the hands of a mad woman from birth until I left home at 18)


Don’t blow your cover.  No matter what, don’t blow your cover.  Cover?  What cover?  Naked legs?  Flowing hair.  Double-talk, triple-talk, round-the-circle talk.  Don’t look in my eyes, they’re real.  Yes, perhaps in time you’ll see the fears and the years and the tears.  Perhaps in time.

But right now.  What about right NOW?  Wait, what game are we playing.  Come back, wait here, where are you, hurry, they’re leaving…don’t run quite so fast, my legs are shorter than yours used to be.

Your time’s up.  Ha!  You didn’t think I was around these parts.  Didn’t know I was right behind you, did ya?  Well, what did you think?  I’d change the rules and let you know?  Come now, what fun would that have been?  We can’t all win.  Not all the time, now that you mention it, not any of the time.

Look around you.  Where am I?  No, no, no, not there.  I tired of that place long ago.  No, not there either.  Don’t you  remember?  We decided back there we should find a place, a safer place, where you could find me any time you cared to look.  You’ve come calling on me again…well think about it for awhile.  Who let who down?

When the bills were posted the word was clear enough.  The old fellow who did the touch up job passed through some time ago.  Faded now, can’t for the life of me figure out what it used to say.  Oh, well, there must be one sheltered from that last storm.  It’ll all come clear when I come across that one.

Did you call my name?  Please, did you call me?  It couldn’t have been your mistake.  It’s been so long since you’ve used it, denying doesn’t change what I have heard.  Don’t leave…wait!  I’ll take care of you, you’ll remember.

Believe me when I say your pain doesn’t matter.  Once you feel it as pain your battle’s half won!  Just hand it here, I’ll take it over there and put it down, and I really wouldn’t worry about coming back to check on it.

Don’t worry, it’ll pass.  I’ve merely forgotten my name.  No, you can’t tell me.  Remember, we’ve just met?  Maybe you could take a moment and give me a reminder.  A clue, just a clue.  Not that I need it, sometimes warm words fill cold spaces.

Laugh a little, cry a little, work a little, worry a little.  The tune’s the same, we make up our own words.

Did I tell you the sun came up last night?  It was really neat.  I made the date with the sun a few years back, surprised I remembered when the time came around.  Let me know when you set yours, I’d love to be with you.  Now that I’ve seen it, I find the night a little empty.

It’s been a little over an hour now.  My perception has been warped by too much exposure.  Hopefully when developed, the images will clear.  Proper timing.  Important, you know.  Where is the clarity without the darkness and the light?

My body will never be as perfect as yours.  I don’t think about it that way.  My balance is in my fingers, where yours is in your toes.  Don’t laugh, I’m humming now, and I can’t hear you, so just hum along…you know the tune.

I waited too long, words have a way of getting bored and running out on you.  Well, I’ll be patient with you, they’ll be back.


(the following words were indented in patterns that do not translate into this blog’s format)

There is so much

within you

for you

to be


that is




to be



When you see beauty

you see me

When you hear music

you are in tune

with me

When you remember


you are remembering me

In your head


When you believe

you have found




you believe

in me

As I have been

in your past

For now we


As when


return to

your mother

without demanding

to know



has been for

the ages


have passed

between you and


have been only





my Voice is one with all voices

all voices are my Voice

my Voice


of thunder and whispers

to your ears

every sound you detect

is my Voice


sound that is

in existence is

a tune

my Voice



Let my child be my beacon, and I her song…..


I included this piece of writing in a previous post on May 25, 2009 that was followed up by this post, part two.

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