To my first unlucky Friday the 13th
I am dreaming. I am sleeping. Again, far from waking. This pain keeps me here, lost in quiet lulls of tainted reality. My body knows the movements that my mind long forgot, everything shifts in dark hues through the open window in my bedroom. I gaze around and wish to color my world, add fake images of life, and pull down the obviousness of
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B. Vicky is enjoying hers.
C. Boys are complimenting Vicky.
D. Lillian is asking "WHY?"
I hope your home becomes a true warm happy place...
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feel the pain untill you are numb,
die a little, live in guilt,
just dont let it kill you.
repair your reality, fix your heart,
make into something better than it was,
show it to those you know you trust,
but don't let it fall away.
it takes time for anything to become a home, my home is here in western washingtom and it took almost two years for me to see that. now I do not think I'll aver want to leave it for longer than a few weeks, but the first time I do I'm going east to visit old freinds.
--Russ
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