POST-TRAUMA STILL-LIFE WITH CHOSEN FAMILY
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This sad excuse of a house, with its faded yellow exterior, its outdated kitchen, the spiders making homes in crevices and corners. It’s old, it’s half- destroyed, its acre replete with weeds, but I still have a little love for this place, still long to recline in the clover and look up at the clouds moving south in the sky. I still long to call this place home. Forget what happened beforehand, the before-hands punching holes into the walls. Forget all the hatred I had for the place. There’s some hope here. I feel it. I feel like you and I can make this sad excuse of a house a home. |