I'm not sick. Achy, though. New stylus from Katherine. I feel a new way. Pain. What a thing. Trace of my earlier cold. Did I take my ibupfofen. Time o' month, maybe. Why don't I love me enough. What is it to love. This night a continuation of the nighttimes in my childhood. That girl saw a bleak winter field. Stars bright from being in the cold. Alone. That never ended.Looking for that deep sorrow buried in a barn. What barn. But ive never stopped being conscious of the barn. At the same time it's beautiful. All alone, but the Universe knew me. I know aspects of It. What it is I look for in that abandoned warehouse. Those abandoned places.
No comments:
Post a Comment