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{Reservations} {Tickets} {Map} {Photos} {Souvaniers} {Postcards} {Design} 2002-09-06 | 9:59 p.m. She is a bloody mess. There are some raised welts on the side of her face, in the center of each one a dried up nick. A piece of old grass is in her hair. Thru tangles she alternately closes and opens her eyes, wishing that this could please God, please be a nightmare to wake from. Her bladder is near to bursting and he won't let her out of his sight to urinate. Straining against the pain she feels her own body betray her and the hot urine leaks out onto her clothes as she tries not to lose control. She starts crying all over again. In a few minutes, the tears and the urine will go from hot to cold and she'll start to shiver. This is what I see and feel. My baby. Be alright, please. Please come home and I won't yell or curse. I will be upset but you won't be hit or hurt. Please come home soon. I want you here with us, alive and unharmed. Miss These? absence of life - 2003-07-28 |
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