this was a dream from about a year ago.

-- pain, unaware then suddenly awake lying on my left side.  awkward angle.  can't feel it, but it looks wrong.
can't blink.   can't hear.  not even my pulse.
sliding glass door and it's open behind vertical blinds.
no sensation to connect but i'm lying in a pool of blood on a cheap beige carpet.  glass everywhere.
didn't feel the footsteps on the carpet beside my head.  saw them bounce my vision a bit.
blood drains away toward a black leather shoe.
right eye's getting blurry, darkening slowly toward the bridge of my nose.  little twitches in my eyelid.  hemorrhaging.  won't see much more.
so quiet
head moved.  i think i FELT - cold - against the side of my head
a gun maybe.  can't see.  the movement skews my vision to the side.  no fear, just slow processing information through a fog of silence and blood loss.
I have a thought of wanting to see this from some other vantage.
the flash - (i thought i'd flinch but my eyes don't close)
...mental reflexes, no movement
losing the other eye.  blood dripping across my lashes.
more glass falling now.  I can't connect it with anything.
beautiful.  tiny flashes of sunlight all over
tired...

Holes

been poking holes in my armor.  cutting myself in the process...  like getting something out of a can.  you have to be careful of the edges.
I need to feel but it's more than I bargained for.
not sure what's more dangerous, the stuff I'm letting in or what's coming out.
the decision is made though.  I'll be true to my nature if it kills me
(it might, I have my moments...)
I'm fascinated by miscommunication.  How badly skewed from lips to ears and back.  Do we mislead ourselves or do we misread the world?  why do we miss so much and take so many years to notice?

Trying not to hate

I've never known how difficult it was to try not to hate someone.  I thought it might be just another inconvenient memory, but I find it a constant battle not to bear a grudge for the first time in my life. Bitterness.
I've done nothing wrong.  I'm suddenly without the most important people in my life, and they are without me.  I find this increasingly unacceptable, but I am not sure if there's anything I can do about it, which makes this all the more difficult.  I don't do helpless.
The pitter-patter of little feet and the shrill voices are not here.  No proxy is enough.  I shouldn't be, cannot be content with that.  Nobody knows how long I've worked to be with them every day.  The stability I'd finally found snatched from under us like a table cloth in a bad magic trick.  Despicable.  Everything is shifted out of place.  She doesn't seem to understand or care.  The worst part is not to be known.