Enough of that, self pity isn't my style So I lose myself again in the journal

She speaks of me often now

Almost as if she's having a conversation with me at


And as I read her words, I want so much to really be


Talking with her, comforting her

We will have our time together

I will settle for nothing less

Her nightmares had become too terrifying to bear She fought sleep, and as a result, was exhausted She slept only when she collapsed from sleeplessness And there was no rest even when she did sleep As close as I can tell, her dreams mirrored my own Or perhaps, my dreams mirrored hers

In any event, we dreamt the same things at the same


And felt the same feelings

Terror, certainly, but more than that

The feeling that, bit by bit, our souls were being

stolen from us

Terri Lyn Stanfield


Return to Main Page