Opened my eyes, had a dream last night, that both my arms were broken...

I had written a couple of faceless, stillborn vignettes about Christmas and dance parties and lighthearted tales about Casa Juconi, but they all seem so trivial and tasteless now and publishing them feels humiliating, like the smoldering wounded feeling right after someone slaps you.

Last night I dreamed I was on the back of a motorcycle driven by the person who has hurt me the most in this world, racing over cracking concrete and crossing rickety bridges chased by sinister figures. I had to cling to him to survive, and in my dream I told him what I really felt, not the angelic words of self-depreciating sugar I spun for him. Don't worry about it, this is what I deserve. You go on and be happy, that's what YOU deserve. I resent the tricks my mind plays on me while I am sleeping. I'm over the missing but I don't know if I will ever be over the shame and the indignity of that kind of Leaving, my heart stores those feelings up and casts them over me in freezing burning poisonous nets of paralysis that I have to shake off.

I took the train underwater today instead of immersing myself in the words of Christ. Sometimes I need a minute to mourn before the answers blaze in my mind and allow me to go merrily on my way with the dove of peace singing in my heart. This is the truth: "We love you regardless." Allowing disapproval to taint friendship makes me a judgmental hypocrite. I ache for what will never be, but it's not my story to write. I'll exorcise that bitter feeling. I'll be a character in your story, always your sister, I will try to always be bright and loving with you still, or I will listen and follow you into the dark. Thank you for trusting me. Please hang on. Don't forget your yellow bird.


Simon Joyner:

Came a yellow bird outside my window
Said bring me water and crusts of bread
Came a yellow bird outside my window
Said bring me water and crusts of break
For I’m injured and I’m haunted
By the storms in which I fled
I tried to fly to New Orleans
But I got lost in heavy rains
I got many holes in my two wings
From arrows that you aimed

It wasn’t I wounded you, any arrows I could shoot
I’m just a lonely man, I never left this room
Besides that I, how on earth could I
Hurt anything so frail as thee
When we’ve never met before this moment
When you called for help from me

Now yellow bird step down into my room
And she chose her words carefully
She said you were aiming for the sun
And I was just in-between
And every time you wish to die
An arrow was released
And the only thing between dark and light
Was my breast or yellow wings

Well this can’t be true I shook with fear
Though I knew she didn’t lie
I never wanted to harm anybody else
It’s just I who wish to die
And then the tears came rolling down
And the floor fell underneath
And the yellow bird folded her wings together
And I dragged her down with me