i'd like to do a mock up of some pictures with Anna Bonus Kingsford, and see if we look alike in any of them. i can see a lot of similarities, the ears, the mouth, the nose is similar. we'll see.
Mescalito calls, i do not answer, I sit by the door waiting for him to come instead. Mescalito calls but i am too hurt, To hurt to heal but Not hurt enough,to answer. I sleep on my front doorstep, Bit the doorstep i sleep on does not heal, It does not condone healing. I do not wAit for resolution, Mescalito knows, mescalito knows. I do not wait for healling, instead i wait for the pain, Mescalito knows, I wait at my doorstep, waaiting for the pain, And mescalito waits. I drink another beer, Mescalito knows my grief. I sip until they show themselves, But mescalito is crying. Im sleeping in the cold, Like i did before, Mescalito was with me in my pain, Im sipping on the door of my appartment, But mescalito already sat down with me. I crack open another beer, Mescalito knows, Mescalito is cryimg, I stumble through the door with my mind, Mescalito sleeps beside me in agony. I ran all the way home by not trying to feel anything, Mescalito knows, But mescalito doesn't speak, I fall ...
Each Dream comes Like a whisper in the night, Arriving like a ghost creeping through my sleep, Becoming my body. Each Dream is more beautiful than the dream before My lovers come into my dreams and present their hearts. Each new heart is sewn upon my own, Stitched in sleep as we lie entangled. When I dream, I dream of love and my heart grows Like a tumor, endlessly emerging in silence. An unfolding blossom I drape it over my body I let it consume me, I let it cover me I let it keep me whole and sew it shut to sleep between the petals of the dream.
I have been sick all weekend. Last night I didn't sleep a wink, but was caught in the undertow between waking and sleeping. Those are the times when you could get caught in any train of thought and get lost in the idea. I got caught in the undertow of my Great Grandfather Joseph Hyrum Stay. I still can feel his influence coming from the grave, and I have almost fallen into the same pitfalls as him. Last Night I dreamed his suicide. Drunk, and Angry, It's cold outside and the wind starts to chill on the face. My Wife will not let me in. My Wife thinks i am a failure. I am a failure. How am I supposed to help raise these kids if I keep drinking away my feelings? I can stop, I will stop. I will not stop drinking, I know that. I am better off dead to these children, they will not miss me. My wife will remarry someone put together and responsible. BUT I AM THEIR FATHER!!! No! I need to be in there with them! "Let Me IN! LET ME IN!" I can picture their Head...
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