the words are wandering and the sights are searing blindly amongst their foray of memories

it's been too long but i've also had toofew words and too much to say.

there are three of us in that curtained cubicle even though it only looks like two. we are talking awkwardly about the mondane amidst your crisis. and we live in strange times.

all night these thoughts keep haunting me; all these thoughts of the afterwards and the point of it all and our twenty one grams of soul. i'm so tired, it's this physical exhaustion that comes from deep within the heart strings and values. it's my muscles ached and bones hurt. i wonder if it is the weight of my person, my ghost, my soul as it grows heavier as it falls further from my grasp. 

things are good and bad and up and down. everything is better than it once was, i am thankful for that, but i miss papa and the cat and old familar knowledge of why i feel upset.

x xx