This awkward silence . . . It welcomes me back home. It nourishes my loneliness as a mother feeds her child that has been gone for much too long. "Sit and eat . . ." and I slowly agree to the terms. With every bite my shoulders less tense, my souls thrashing about weakens as my acceptance begins to clear out the items they deem trash . . . and I once considered treasure. It is a bitter return to that hole in the world. That no one seems to understand or recognize as existing . . . a place where the unfortunate gaze upon the world with glassy glares of simulated ignorance. Wishing they never knew the possibility of good things . . . never should we have ventured so far from home . . . I see my coat become one with the hook fastend to the wall . . . creating an eerie silence in which every sound in the world screams in every direction except mine. All that is left . . . and there will ever be . . . and I . . . well I had no business smiling in the first place . . . like "the calm before the storm," it only precedes despair . . .