Page Eighteen
mon 16 june 2008 Greenfield
for that certain someone: bill and scotty in the flats…
(click to follow Bill’s trail: here, or here, or here, or here. or there.)
More messages I had to leave for Thread Three. Again, Thread One is this blog, and all the others, and is the story of what was done to me and my animals. Thread Two is the collection of poems I’ve been writing about that destruction. Thread Three is just a tiny thing, a very small story I’m telling to someone about a guy we both know named Bill. That story is strictly for her, and won’t mean anything to anyone else.
Thread Two:
Number 16
I dream. Sometimes of you, the stolen, I dream. Sometimes I dream of the thieves. Dreaming only in the night now, only in tossing sleep.Daydreams are all away: vanished, pilfered, like you.
Remember? Do you recall how many were the daydreams I could make? Do you recall how very good I was at dreaming?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
tick-tock. no time for Thread One today. tschüss.
Update 13 August 2009: Writing this note in Turners Falls today. Tuesday was the exact 17-month anniversary of when my own real life was stolen from me, so I’ve been coming to Turners. I’ve been writing about that anniversary on the sehnen blog.
I’ve said before: these poems tear at my heart. Even more than they did when I first wrote them. I’m no longer able to write poetry, another piece of my own world and my own self stolen. If you have any interest, you can read more about me and my own world on any of my other journals, but especially at mishibone.wordpress.com, my Asperger’s Syndrome blog.
(stained glass available from www.toscano.com)
braon, a journal 
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