Feb 02, 2010 09:43
To the only one who matters:
I'm in a self-imposed exile. And I couldn't find it; maybe I need a clue?
All I needed was to know you had not forgotten me.
I'm not ready yet. I don't know why.
I'm thinking. I'm thinking all the time.
I keep this going because of you.
If you need to talk to me, you can find me here immediately.
I only know that I feel.
I don't know how or why, but I know that I do.
I'm small and scared and selfish, but I'm trying.
It's just taking longer than I thought it would.
the trouble with doctors,
absence,
thoughts on the devil