Wednesday, October 26, 2011

I don't cry pretty...

I am not one of those women who look charmingly disarrayed when upset. I cry ugly, my face goes all blotchy and red, my nose runs, my eyes puff up into little lizard-like slits.

I don't cry quietly... I sob and gasp for breath, I am loud and intrusive, I am not private in my grief.

I don't cry publicly...

I have a toughened facade that no-one sees through. I keep it all held tightly together, wound brittle, hard, impenetratable.

And underneath seethes this raw, open scream wanting to break out. It has stolen my words, this silence, it has taken my voice. I begin to write, words tumbling, stumbling to flow onto this blog but as my fingers touch the keyboard...

They vanish.

And the scream continues to writhe, scrambling with sharpened claws of pain, aching to be freed.



If I let it out will my words come back, or will I vanish into the shrill?


3 comments:

Jen said...

This is such a beautiful post my friend. So poetic. I cannot answer your question but I do believe that somehow in someway you need to let it out...it all out so that you can be freed. Whether that be here or elsewhere only you can answer. xoxo

Lisa said...

Hedge your bets? Scream your sob-words into a private file, save it, encrypt it, bury it.
Read it later, when you can decide if it needs to be edited, published, or shredded.

E. said...

Oh MM! I feel for you. I agree with Jen and Lisa that you need to get it out, somehow.

I don't cry pretty either but i do (unfortunately) cry in public. I've gone from never crying in public to turning into a blubbery, sobbing mess on more occasions than I'd like to admit.