Personal Journal

Screams

I scream sometimes.
I scream sometimes like a woman impossibly trapped in the vicegrip of labor, because nothing on earth but screaming can help her.

I screamed like that tonight, looking at those pictures of Jean's life before me. I screamed because they are written in a language no one will ever translate for me. I can never know what they meant to her.

I screamed because I felt the pain of what I have forever had taken from me, because nothing else could help me.