Friday, May 3, 2019

I still feel awful, but thinking about you helps. When I get sick, I feel at death's door. I wish I could just get a peek of you, or a small sound of your voice to me. I would be happy for a crumb.  I don't know what entirely is going on. But I know that some people like to play mean mind games. They like to erase hope
 I am no one who is a problem.

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