Pieces of
our past.
Wondering how we will
Patchwork
them back
together,
in the days
of the weeks,
the months
of the years ahead...

as you disguise
yourself,
on benches,
in corners, alleys.
Hidden in woods,
underpasses
of freeways.
Tents, cars
of strangers.
Filthy trap houses.
You disappear,
to find
comfort in
the only place
left to heal.

The Deep Depths of Sleep.

Oh how I
worry about
you my love.
You suffer so
for this journey  
you have embarked on...

Oh, how I
hurt for you,
yearn for you,
love for you
and cry for you.

Your pain
so deep
keeps you away,
to dwell in the
terrifying place that
encourages
the need to
Self implode..
Obliterate all ability to feel.

Even the
true sense of Belonging
Of being
unconditionally
loved.