27 April 2016

Went to the woods again today.

When I arrived at the green place, the voices were clearer than they'd ever been. I'm not sure the words are English, but I'm beginning to understand. I fell asleep, in the grass, to the sound of the singing, the sun warming me.

I saw them. The owners of the voices, dancing on the edge of the clearing. They're taller than I thought they'd be, dressed in such colours.

I told them I would come back, and I would stay.

There's nothing for me in the world now, except pills and hopelessness. And Celia. 

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