She had a feeling she was someone, somewhere, to another person.

Sharing poems & thoughts, one redacted word at a time.
She had a feeling she was someone, somewhere, to another person.
It's time for the injured world to take care of the children.
Late night New York this city dotted by bright gas stations and diners, strung with insomniacs, waitresses, and lunatics.
I fear another betrayal should be the last. my journey was sadder than I could put down, my history, dree, and dreary! And not exactly a kind which I should have chosen but never mind! I'll extract my heart and I'll continue whole.