In the Nut House, Again. Always the same ... I'll get better one day. but my questions remain: what will become of us? Will you die by his side? will i die as alone as i've always been? And how you fill my thoughts! warm milk and honey, affections gentle: fingers on my ears. There's a house cat here. Luna, they call her. She is as black as the pre-dawn, brilliant green eyes and a meek cackling meow. she's as kind as you've ever been, and as powerful as you've ever been. they say we're gifted with insanity, that it's a blessing to be different so that everyone watches you, interested in your next move. So, I speak out loud to no one in the hopes that somehow, magically, my words will rest in your ears and i might wake up to your lips upon mine. Hafez went crazy when he fell in love. it is not uncommon, but in his time, there were no nuthouses, so he was forced to recite poetry for 40 days and 40 nights in the street outside his love's window. In the end, all he had was God and his voice... His love married a banker.
screaming at low volumes
