....such cold warmth
air rising...

Somewhere, perhaps California
there are lemon trees, full and green...

Acidic, my throat burns, constricts, I am
sick...

I feel I am slipping away.
I fade...

Find me here,
behind my words...

Just for this moment
i've found myself again...

...pain
is not always visible...

Locked away in a box
that i keep hidden behind my heart...

Streaming across my face like
whispering tassels of wind...

Lookin at these broken tatters
seems like my wings don't matter anymore...

I've always loved you--
your hands, your eyes...

The hallways were different at this time of...