Is it fear, or just plain timidity? I cannot tell.
  But something is holding me back.
                                     Something deep inside of me.

                             Something mad.
                   Something vindictive.

  It is keeping me away from happiness.
  It is raping my very dream of it.

           Something horrible.
     Something jealous.

  In its cold grip, all ideas of warmth and intimacy are meaningless,
                                     satisfaction unattainable,
                              desires unfulfillable,
                      and longing…
                 longing is the only source of light and heat.

              Longing without hope.
              Longing accompanied by a crippling sense of

March 24, 1997