Strolled down memory lane tonight...going through old pictures, cards, letters...from those who truly love(d) me.  Found letters from my best friend who died in a horrible accident in 2000.  God, I miss her so much.  Funny how one loss brings back all the others...During my excursion, he finally called, "just to hear my voice and because he missed me so much."  Wow...hard to tell from this end.  And again, reassurance that there's no one else.  WTF???  Why??  Why??  Why??  If I gouged my eyeballs out and poured battery acid all over me, could this be any more painful?? I walk around here like a freakin' crazy woman, talking to myself.  "I hate this.  I hate this.  Oh, BTW did I mention I hate this???"  Found this as I was going through an old folder of poems I've collected... Crutchesby Nikki Giovanni it's not the crutches we decryit's the need to move forwardthough we haven't the strength women aren't allowed to needso they develop ritualssince we all know working hands idlethe devilwomen aren't supposed to be strongso they develop social smilesand secret drinking problemsand female lovers whom they never touch men are supposed to be strongso they have heart attacksand develop other womenwho don't know their weaknessesand hide their fearsbehind male loverswhom they religiously toucheach saturday morning on the basketball courtit's considered a sign of health doncha knowthat they take such good care of their bodies i'm trying to say something about the human conditionmaybe i should try again if you broke an arm or lega crutch would be a sign of couragepeople would sign your castand you could bravely explainno it doesn't hurt---it just itchesbut if you develop an itchthere are no salves to cover the areain need of attentionand for whatever guilt may meanwe would feel guilty for trying to assuage the discomfortand even worse for needing the aid i really want to say something about all of usam i shouting?     i want you to hear me emotional falls always arethe worstand there are no crutchesto swing back on