Therapy Homework 1.22.06

This one is from exactly eleven years ago . . . not exactly a poem, but some words out of an entry from my therapy journal. 

January 22, 2006

I am thin . . . and particular

Intuitive and sensitive.

I can shut out everything

or take it all in

It is hard to do much

In between.

I have great compassion.

I'm not so tolerant in relationships.

I judge too easily,

Then I overcome. 

I give people a chance,

One-on-one

But I don't do well with men and sex.

I am traumatized.


I feel devastated when 

I fall.

I cry when I don't want to,

and I don't cry when I really need to.

Sometimes I cry when I feel

Something touch my soul.


I'm rough like a stone and I can be

as pliable as clay.

I love life. I hate living it

Sometimes

I know I am living

When I am with Mother Earth,

and I try to take care of Her.


I have passion.

It feels like a thousand fragments

dancing in my soul.

It is hard to focus

And when I do it grasps me

In its jaws of intensity.


I love my children.

My children love me. 

I still feel trapped.

But I keep going.