
Saturday, November 11, 2006

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

....fuck
he took my hand and told me how proud of me he was. he put his hand on top of mine, as if to console me. he looked into my eyes full of tears, and he told me he knew someday i would be fixed; i wouldn't be broken forever.
if only he knew...
sleep no longer carries comfort. i feel weak without solid ground. in sleep terror covers me like a blanket of muddy water. and i awaken in panic, drowning in these paranoid fears. i can feel it slipping through my fingers like sand.
.i'd come home.
she's gone. i don't know what's going on, or where she is, or where to begin. i need safety; i need a home; i need her arms. she is no where to be found, and i cannot help but feel we are destined to punish one another forever.
to find you gone.....
R.I.P. buck "wild" oatway 1981-nov.3 2006 .....never thought, of all the people we might lose, it would be you. we all know our poison, but who ever thought yours would come to claim you so soon. you were a fucking light in our lives. you were the laughter we needed once again. thank you for the long embraces when i felt i couldn't hold it together. thank you for the smiles, the beer, the stories, the friendship. thank you for findng your way to this dirty little town.... if only you'd come back. you will be loved and missed...
