Tuesday, September 09, 2014

The Finger Guns Are Not Loaded

Ever since I saw the brain doctor last week I have felt like there is a hole in me.

The hole sits beneath my heart and above my stomach and is still partially behind my ribcage.

I can feel the pull of the hole; how it's trying to curl me up and suck me in.

Into what, I'm not sure, but I know what I hope it is.

My feet are dragging and I'm afraid of how horrible a guest I'll be when I get to Oregon later this month.

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