Monster

I feel anrgy. I feel sad and weak. I've exhausted my patience, kindness, reserve and wallet. Yet some how, I've been made a monster.

Home is not where your heart is.

You can put your heart into many things. Family, friends, lovers, pets, work, hobbies, feelings, houses, charities, causes, politics, life - in general or death - inevitable, etc....
Let's be honest though, home? Is home a place you go? A song you hear? A person you love? A thing you do or a self you once knew?
I really don't know anymore.

Home is a foreign object found gummed to the bottom of a preschoolers desk.

Stone lover

When the fog falls here, it snakes and disperses like its alive. There is a pond in the graveyard near my home where certain kinds of fog create thillers amongst the stones.
On nights like this, I rush to see the pond. The fountain in the center gushing torrents of mist, gaurded by a stone angel keeping her perpetual vigil on the residence.
I've had nightmares and dreams of her.
First she hovers while I ponder the lives of those around me. Slowly curling her cloud-like tendrils 'round my legs to drag me into the abyss beside her. Her caress teases my thighs until im both terrified and aroused that I wake.
The next night I approach her first and her concrete dress gives when I lift it. Her expression does not change but she regards me and I oblige. She is smooth and firm and cold. I am wet and weary and wanting. When she closes her eyes, I break my fingers inside her and wake....which is the dream? Which is the nightmare?

Words fail

She had a wonderful sense of humor that would completely disarm you at times. She loved music and ice cream and worried, worried, worried more about the well being of those around her more than her own. She loved her family and spoke of them often. She loved more than any person i've ever come in contact with and could put a man of god to shame even though, she would deny it if you told her. Humble, forgiving, caring - all the adjectives in the dictionary created for describing great things about a person belong to her. I hope we can all embrace at least one of her many valuable characteristics, we'd be better humans for it.
I've noticed that when people write about those that have passed, they often forget about all the bad things that made that person who they are and focus only on their good deeds. You don't have to church anything up with Glad' she honestly had a heart of pure gold and if there is a heaven, god should be honored to have such an exceptional woman in his presence.

Gladys Huffman

...has passed away. She was the best woman I know. I miss her.