23/8/18

My voice is returning……Slowly, like a drip. Nourishing and feeding, relaxing and coming. I breathe again. And it is I, I weep. A smile becomes my face as I remember: I’m coming home. The foreign land is behind me, I hope. The assault is over. And my life can go on. ? .

I want to perpetuate and trust my inner feeling…..Can this be done? Am I still effected? Will I return? I feel unsure, uncertain,  afraid. Regretful. Tired. Beaten. I smile wryly. And salute the pain. I must love it for it is me. I cradle myself and whisper soothing words. Get better. Get better. You can overcome, overbearing dread. This is out of my control, let there be peace…..I must paint.