If you wake up in a stranger house with stranger friends, you inevitably awake within yourself as a stranger person.
If you've ever felt anything, you'll understand why I haven't been sober in 4 weeks. Because, friends, you'll have to sit me on a bed of nails before you keep me here.
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The Manor will do that to you, I think.
ReplyDeleteI like this poem a lot, perhaps because of your use of Stranger which has been a word of mine for the past week.