Posted on February 13, 2018August 30, 2018 by ruth rTomorrow Start to run on broken lumber that has fallen from the structure of the burning house. Jump onto one that snaps in half and grab another piece, just in time. Swinging and running through the falling thoughts. careful not to step on the ground, and LOSE the game of carpet lava. But I can’t leave the house- Something so mesmerizing and sweet in the air, a monotonous smell that I search for every time my mind visits there. Mama, Papa, take me home. The fire is back, but I am still cold. Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Related
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