Family
Remembering My Mama
Dear Mama, Because you were born on January 3, 1929, I have decided to remember you especially on this day: J jacks you taught me how to play that game, and when I was older, you taught me canasta. You had a special way of shuffling those two decks of cards. In my mind, I can still see your hands doing that.
By Shirley Belk3 years ago in Poets
Sharing The World Introvert Day with my Sister, the Extravert
The second day of January always belongs to my sister, Kitty. She was born on that day, so I must celebrate the world's day set aside for introverts with her! She is the furthest creature from an introvert that could ever be. That is my role. So, the sharing is perfect. I will have to share an imaginary day with her because, you see...we live in two different worlds, it seems.
By Shirley Belk3 years ago in Poets
Betrayal
Every relationship in your life carries the risk of betrayal. Who can betray us? Until recently, I thought that only my partner could give me the feeling of betrayal. Recent years have shown me that this feeling can be caused by anyone close to your heart. Mom, dad, brother, grandparents, friends and partner can betray. I suffered all these betrayals, and I still suffer them despite my overcautiousness and paranoia. I'm freaking out, I'm losing my mind, I don't trust, I'm cautious and I am not naive anymore, and yet I'm still betrayed. I'm trying to break this vicious circle of disappointments, but I can't. I am working on myself, working on methods of communication, trying to calm my nerves and emotions. I spend hours thinking and mentally preparing myself as much as I can for various situations. I am trying to look from different perspectives. As now writing still nothing has changed, it's getting worse and worse. I don't think I've ever lacked a shoulder to lean on and feeling of appreciation as much as I do now. I feel so damn lonely and hopeless that something good is waiting for me. I have a terrible problem with trust, and every attempt to trust and telling myself that it will be fine and someone has good intentions ends with a knife in my back again. I'm out of ideas. I don't have the strength anymore. From a person who does not run away from problems and solves them on a regular basis, I want to turn into a butterfly that will fly away and leave everything behind. I've lost my identity or never really had one...
By Robin Kochanowska3 years ago in Poets
