Saturday Night, 1970s

He wakes her up in the middle of the night.  It is late, and she is tired.  When she asks him where they are going he shushes her.  Her sisters pretend to be sleeping but she knows they aren't.  They are all awake.

The witch, redux

“She will watch you and report whatever you say or do,” the witch warned me.  “She never sleeps, and she never blinks.  You might think you’ve fooled her, but you won’t have.  She exists for only one purpose.   You cannot kill her.  You cannot win.”

Ode to the fallen goddess, 1993

I've been thinking about you today - 
I've been wondering about you today.
You were like a sewing needle in the jugular
but I missed you today.

Could I be seeing you in what I was 
Death is to see you in what I
become.

Even though I loved you more than snow 
on my birthdays in
December.

I remember...

...being 12 years old, and thinking to myself, only six more years.  I could survive anything for only six more years.

Hewn

Journal entry, February 5, 2008

Sometimes I wish I could go back to the box.

One foot in this world and one foot in the other.  Why would anyone want to stay there?  To close my eyes and dream forever.

A girl’s voice I thought I wanted to forget.

Today joy was in the terrier’s face as she bounced along the road.  Profoundly satisfied by the day’s events and unexpected adventures.

Today sadness was the tired face of someone who has been chronically ill for longer than she is used to.  Predictability can be a lovely thing.

One foot in this reality and yet to never seem quite real at all.  Was I just reading as a child or educating myself for the reality to come?  Everything and nothing makes sense anymore.

Nothing was meant to be remembered let alone examined and understood.