I will pray if ever I remember to be religious...
Silence fills the room up of my absent childhood. I write to right. That's my attempt to be writeous.
Turn you at my reproof: behold, I will pour out my spirit unto you, I will make known my words unto you...
A war waged on SELF. Deeds do not lie. Yet, I find my SELF wanting to believe that it's all still possible. Breath Mother. We still have hope. We still have us.
We still have me
