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when walking in the valley

I'm sick of standing--only to spin in the dark.

I'm sick of saying goodnight--at the start of my day.

I'm sick of brushing my fingertips over my cheeks--only to have them come away moist.

I'm sick of being greeted in the morning--with the screaming pain in my head.

I'm sick of having to eat--only to have to lay back down.

I'm sick of hearing only the sound of my own merriment--at the comedy on screen.

I'm sick of talking with a person--only to have their words blur in my head.

I'm sick of planning my dreams--only to be forced to hide them away.

|Lydia|1:42 AM|Monday, April 26, 2004|

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  • We've all walked through valleys, and if it wasn't for those valleys there wouldn't be mountains. One long valley in my life at the moment is the weakness of my body and the syndromes, illnesses, and complications that have come from it. There have been small mountain tops scattered throughour this valley. More valleys, too. These few lines were written when at the lowest point of one of those second valleys.


  • (return home)

  • (e-mail me)

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