The train whistle sounds again, like every night. I never miss hearing it, several times each night. Tonight in particular I so want my Sante bed back. I love and protect my freedom on the outside, but I miss the security of the inside that I never understood until I was free. I want my friends who I just had to walk down the sidewalk to find. And I want the techs who handed out my meds each night. And I want my therapist who knew everything about me. I never had to tell one of those hurtful stories twice. And I want my curfew. No phone or Facebook to distract. Nothing but a sparce room and guaranteed sleep every night.
Posted on: Sun, 24 Nov 2013 09:40:14 +0000
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