There is no way to backdate entrys so far and I wanted to add in some things I had written on another journal site. Please forgive me if this post throws you off.

My family has secrets... :: Thursday, November 8th, 2001

Families, secrets...we all have them. We don't like them. We don't pick them. We don't eat dinner with them on a regular basis. Some of them we keep in the closet. Some of them we take out for show and tell. And then there's those that we just don't really understand. I know we all have aunts like that.

My family has secrets. My family doesn't talk about its secrets. Maybe bits and pieces but never the sum total of a secret. There's always just enough to keep you guessing. To keep you wondering just who you are and who these people pinching your cheeks say they are. It's enough to bring an identity crisis on.
Well, family as a whole unit will keep them guarded but there's always the ones who gossip and make their business yours. And then there's my mom. A true article of dysfunction.

No matter how many times I cried TMI as a child it went unnoticed. I have to say there are some things I'd rather not know. Here's an adage I do remember. Ignorance is bliss.

There are things I want to know like the story Grandma told me late one night about her first husband. Who strangely never came up before or is listed in our geneaology. Now did that have to do with the fact she hit him over the head with something heavy out by that lake? She swore up and down he was going to kill her for her insurance policy. I'll probably be ignorant of that. I'd even like to find out just who my Mother's father really was. But some things she should just let lie. Since she won't admit to most of what I want to know, I'm not gonna push it. But neither should she.

C'mon Mom. Ignorance is bliss in some cases.

don't want silver secrets
given to me
forced through searing blue
flames of silence
to share, to hold
unwelcomed gifts of guilt
stuffed down my puking,
trembling throat
still forced to swallow
hard/bitter/cold
secrets seeking destruction
division, delving the whole
creating voluminous vaccums
which
steal, suck in my soul
while
cruel/crashing/crunching
cries whine down to
wind away into nearly
nothing