PoeticaL
cluttering the net since 2001

"bucky" cries...it cracks my heart wide open raw

Thursday, Aug. 08, 2002
Today, I listened to too many songs, rubbed my aching head. Had too many confrontations, forgot to read my horoscope. Watched pretty boy faces on my screen and ached inside for finding what I’ve never thought was attainable, and yet still not being able to embrace it.

I cried myself to sleep earlier pouring my heart out to Mad. You do realize I did that? I literally cried myself into talking slumber curled up fetal feeling so thankful for that safe place where I can truly break it all out and throw it out like throwing out my scars on white cotton sheets for a brand new lovers examination. You are the best thing I ever did, outside of “Bucky”.

Tonight “Bucky” broke down in tears talking about how he feels like the other kids are laughing at him when he stops and struggles with words in his book. So while I have a million other things I’m worried about, this has taken immediate concern and priority. Tomorrow night I am hitting the bookstore for some new and kewl books for that boy to read. I am going to sit with him for hours each night listening and encouraging and hugging. No child of mine will ever be made to feel less than or ridiculed. The odd thing is…he reads well. But in his little world, in his mind the way he’s being seen is not the way I see him. He is larger than life and I will help him to see it. I once told him “if I could give you anything I’d give you a purple crayon like Harold has so you could paint your world exactly the way your beautiful mind sees fit”. I think this weekend I am going to go to the store and buy 8 packs of those big chunky crayons and then put 8 purple ones in one box and wrap it up and give it to my little man. Thing is, his soul is like mine. Sadly beautiful, artistically joyful and sensitively alive!! I do not want to see this ever die. To watch his little blue eyes tonight all wet with that inner ache… It breaks my heart more than any pain I could ever know.

I found some newfound will this morning to change things. To find the life I keep cheating myself out of. To somehow be that girl…I want to be. All this chaos…it’s killing me. It’s killing me quick like a knife on my necks edge.

Justin…I’m sorry. I’m sorry all my turmoil makes me so blind and angry at the world, when it’s not the world’s fault.

I’m just sorry…about too many things.

-PoeticaL
9:41 p.m. ::
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