I need to treat each day like it's the last. I don't know what to expect when I return home. I haven't been home since January 17th. Isn't that scary? It frightens me. I know nothing has changed and that might be what scares me even more. I have changed. I don't know how I will be accepted. Will I even be accepted? Someone hold me close. My door rattles with the old musty building wind. I may never see you again. Love me tenderly. 
¶ 3:59 PM |