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May 2013
3am
3am again, its cold under the blankets. I contemplate getting up as I usually do, catching a buzz but it is cold, too cold even for bumblebees. I am tired, I wonder what it is all about apart from being guardians for our children of course  The pain is searing from the ground up, it has to reach my heart of course, this is why it hurts so much  I understand in an instant, you just wanted the pain to stop, like i do now. In a ball under the blanket, with only this hint of life radiating from my palm, bright too bright yet, I continue, it is better than cold - where did all the warmth go? At what point did it stop? The chemicals have run dry, the last tear drop, cold dead night Autumn night, my muse my lover. Cold under these sheets the warm side taken up by my child my faithful cat on my pillow gives me no solace, only more pain, I know he will die soon. Then, even the comfort of his heart beating softly, his paw holding mine, will be gone.. all of it gone! I reach out to you far away, I know you feel me, hear me, as I do you. For the first time I feel alone, Miss Independent everything is fine, soldier on gone! I want to feel warm blood in my veins, not cold, not pain. This wounded healer cries in vain. No point in wondering why, this must be how it feels. I understand why you wanted to die
Dedicated to Karl
Joanne Fuda
Written by
Joanne Fuda  F
(F)   
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   Nat Lipstadt, Liam, ---, R, --- and 1 other
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