Thursday, June 15, 1989


In my cave, alone,
And solitude no longer covers or heals these wounds.
They remain open, bleeding profusely.
But no one can see the loneliness I feel,
And no one can penetrate my defensive posture.
For I have learned well the lesson of being kicked when you’re down.
I remain enclosed in my cocoon of anger,
Keeping all possible help at bay.
No one can do any more than they have for or to me.