Thursday, 27 August 2015

Dream Journal, June 12, 2005

Last week I had a dream that I witnessed my family murder someone—my dad and my oldest brother grabbed some guy in a shopping mall and stabbed him in the stomach.  Because I was with them I had the idea that I was an accomplice so we took off for the mountains, where I was desperately trying to figure out how to get us out of trouble.  I was almost certain that I would go to prison (if only because I’d helped them escape), which scared me, but then I thought I deserved it.  I actually became sort of upset when later in the dream I got the idea that I wouldn't go to prison after all.

Anyway, in the mountains it no longer seemed like me but a movie I was watching.  The family looked and acted like a bunch of gross hillbillies.  At one point the girl propositioned her oldest brother, who eagerly took her up on the offer.  Then the younger brother, who was a big dumb brute, got violent with the older brother, who to save himself from being choked stabbed the younger brother in the neck.  Very yucky.  The only good part of it was that it somehow felt like the family wouldn't get away with what they’d done.

Tuesday, 25 August 2015

Behind the wall

I have a secret words
will never find,
images I tucked
away.

I once heard a voice.
It beckoned me,
singing,
tell me your secrets,
your hopes and fears
and jealousies.
I whispered back in the
safest voice I could
reveal,
my dreams mean nothing
to you.


Monday, 24 August 2015

Essay, When I Was Twelve, 1989 (excerpt)

After a couple of weeks, my mom started getting weekend passes  To me it was the greatest thing since God knows what, to actually get to see my mother at home.  She would come on Saturdays, go grocery shopping, and take me out for lunch. Then she'd make homemade soup for the week, and have dinner with me and Steve.  Joan and Dad were always conveniently gone when Mom was home.  I was glad - I didn't want them around to ruin it.  But then she'd always go back, and I'd be stuck with my dad again.


Saturday, 22 August 2015

Diary entry, April 15, 1981


It’s been bad for me because my mom and dad are getting divorced.  We did a school play yesterday.  We were the Spanish dancers.

Friday, 21 August 2015

Special, 2015




Did you tell me I would be broken
when you called me special
Did you call me hopeless
when I begged for forgiveness
Because now I am crawling
waiting for tomorrow
With a today so very desperate
that yesterday is hiding
There is no more point here
I shout into the echo
But I can feel nothing
other than I am special
Special for your weakness
Special for my survival
Special is what kills me
I cannot defy it

But I am sane and you are not
and here we are and there I was
when I cannot breathe out loud
lest you hear me moving

Far out of your orbit
spinning in slow motion
Trying to shout louder
than a kitten’s mewling
Will the planets find me
all my silent crying
Now I can feel nothing
only my plates shifting
Into old arrangements
nothing ever changes
If you could have loved me
let me be ordinary
The world would have opened
the stars would have held me
But now I am so special
the goddess of your nothing
What you poured inside of me
it was not for growing
It was all for killing
what was only dying
to be loved at all...