Comments about Heatherlee Eldridge
Lately when asked, how are you I respond with words no longer living.
passion, romance, affection, acceptance
I am alive by choice at this point. I wonder often; if the gun that will unmake me is yet made, what baleful birth will bury me,
How many bullets, like a flock of blackbirds, will come carry my depression to its final bed.
Which photo will be used to water down my blood. Today I did not die and there is no god or law to thank the bullets missed my head,