Where do people go to when they die?
Somewhere down below or in the sky?
"I can't be sure," said Grandad, "But it seems,
They simply set up home inside our dreams."
Unaddressed Letters litter my head. Further, they litter my room. In notebooks, in pockets, in artpads and scribbleblocks. Tiny notes of "I miss you" and "Leave me alone" lead me along a
(
Read more... )