There is dust on my stereo...

Done roll-playing,

I sit on my deck, overlook the night-ridden trees in my backyard. My hair is sitting behind me, to my hips, stuck against the weight of my back.

I glare at the pink lawnchair beside me, that I dragged with me from California, once folded in the back of my truck, content now, at home and safe, a place that is home for me  ...now.

What am I doing here? I've always breathed air that was never mine, making homes that were never foreseen but somehow I always made sense of.  Virginia does that to me, but again my childhood flourishes from here...Still the air is strange and I need a reason to breathe it.

The words are coming, they are rumbling behind these, and I feel myself about to let them come out.

So it's time to say goodnight,

I felt love tonight.