Thursday, June 15, 1995

Diary of My Days

Little blue book

Opening to my touch
               need you so much

Shh ... it's a secret
               but my head must crack
for a minute or two

I turn to you
               You understand
                              don't say a word

Writing with a fever

               and I don't know

WHY?  You won't tell
               I understand myself
My private little hell inside
               a book
it dwells day by day
               my thoughts collapse on a pen
Jumbled and careless
               THEY FALL

But then my book sweeps them up with her worn fingers
               And reminds me of

A Grandparent I never knew
A father I never had
               A mother that left
A brother's death
               A sister - CAME CLOSE
A love - will it last? 
My DIARY knows.