with all the time i have, i'm an insult to the dead.

there were words here. 
i decided sharing them was perhaps the worse thing to do . 
Yesterday I was bad. Very very bad. Almost wound back up in the hospital, this time not by my will. 
Today I am better. Not completly great, but I'll take better over edging toward dead. 
Yesterday there was warmth, after the storm had passed and comfort and strong arms (your arms like towers) and soft words. Yesterday I felt like our connection was back online. 
Today, I am exhausted and hurt and mildly resentful.
This can't work if we are both on constant suicide watch. 
I hurt for the things I saw and believed i could have. 
I'm choking on my disappointment and suspicsion. 
so close to touching freedom, then i hear the guards call my name. 
but ... here i am. 
still. 
still here. whereever here is anymore. 
I need a pair of red shoes to click together. 
There's no place like home.
There's no place like home. 
There's no place like home. 
Because, home hasn't been found yet.