4th September
2012
Dear Cassi,
In all the letters I send and the overall talking
about my day I thought I was venting. To me these letters are the lancing of
infected wounds, and as I watch with fascination the pus runs. Now it seems as
they are something else to you.
You apologized for venting in your letter and here
I had felt bad for venting on my own. We express pain in different ways I
guess. I look back and laugh because I’ve no more tears to cry or sobs to
utter. As a boy I cried a lifetime in the darkness.
I never new comfort for crying so I guess I left
it behind. Then tears are they to wash our eyes and perhaps my eyes have been
made clear. Perhaps my pain should be my own and I should keep it to myself. So
far as I can remember expressing pain has never done well for me and so I have
kept it as a thing within.
When the hair on my had was still soft as a boy’s
should be my pain drew
laughter and my blood drew jokes. So when I am struck I stiffen and the pain sobers me. This is who I am so worry not if I cry no tears and cry no tears for me. In my time on this earth these thinks have been well looked after and so I move on to more functional bits of life.
laughter and my blood drew jokes. So when I am struck I stiffen and the pain sobers me. This is who I am so worry not if I cry no tears and cry no tears for me. In my time on this earth these thinks have been well looked after and so I move on to more functional bits of life.
Find your strength, little sister,
Richard Leland Neal
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