The clothes drier is a drill into my scull.
It’s hum incessant, pausing only briefly before continuing to deepen its reach.
Clothes spin round and round,
Thoughts spin round and round,
Why am I going round and round, in and out of hospitals, getting no where?
April 13, 2020 at 9:59 am
You’re words are painfully beautiful as always angel. Hitting deeply and sharply.
I wish I could help someway.
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