the wind is howling outside these windows. and i've stuffed loose fabric, the shirts destined to be forgotten at the salvation army as soon as i can get a ride--get around to the getting rid of it, between the outside and where i am. and i realize tonight that Home really isn't that difficult to recognize, if you aren't too stupid to allow it. to let it in. to see it even with all of your eyes closed and your heart and mind open. even if you have absolutely no place to go. there's nothing more that i need to remind me. and i only wish that i knew the words to a language in which i could express the way that this wind holds the stories of my entire history. banging on your window. begging to be let in. like the way i need my coffee in the morning. but there is and always that moment when i left you that answer phone message so many hundreds of days gone by. and the way i don't ever hear the haunting terror of the dog's chain rattling. so much. anymore. i am loved. special. fantastic. in the fabric of these moments of our lives. forever.