The Madness of North Wales Mary Ellen Doughan, Bethesda
And then me have believed so passionately that we can have an exchange of smell 'gl with ny' sbyty perfume for dinner on the st ô f. The bydda'r quarry dust kinder than the white walls. The'll 'my royal baby calm myself would give way to a quick and bodies greedy royal baby hands of my children. The I'd better ... Unlike.
I'm longing for Ddimbach, as I was longing for Bethesda faster. Hurt, still wanted at home. A fanno'n space gray, a journey by train us somewhere I do not know where he is. Somewhere between the Ogwen Valley and the madhouse, maybe. Between leaving the 'sbyty full of hopes, according to n, healthy. A return to sights faces' curious, aloof tight on me. As they have seen better days lost know who I am, even though I'm one of them ever. My presence ê n be washed fur 'sweat by heating the flush.
Me I can hear by train in the distance, blowing his cloud 'to the hot blue sky. She sounds like she's seen better days breathing. In something living to rescue people from their districts brutal childhood. She will go and then me, today, royal baby if it does ... In my haste to return to.
Last night, in the belly of the night, with no moon illuminates the bedroom small but crazy boy, I watched the children are asleep. Everything was in black and white cola 'colored milk, both as still as a fallen bodies under their cynfasa'.
I've made my Ora 'blue ... After trying pruning and nurturing my will: change myself for these. But it is weak and pale 'Ora' royal baby to blue, and I see 'not the unbearable royal baby weight wool with them other than their bodies, a burden too heavy for me to be able to' ddiodda '. Swollen flesh and blood and hair and gwinadd of bowels for, thou art my children belong only to me.
I can see the st ê m by train from rising in the distance, beyond the trees. It will be here soon, and I ga 'Inna' escape. From before me, like a scar across the track, the tracks, hard and firm tenderness amid the trees. Waiting. Waiting. He escorted me to my engine comes here: I can I leave again.
There's a fashion nostalgia, ready, for what will be left of me. John, and the Cloud 'in his eyes when he looked at me. Laughter of children arising from the backyard, a chaotic merry. Breath Afon Ogwen back street of shadows, whispering words only requires' that does not exist.
Me. In the bedroom mirror, and my face'm pale as the moon last night, showed nothing. The mirror blank is now: neat lines of the room just to see it, and somehow, there's a comfort as warm at the thought of that. Thinking about all the vacancies will be after me. Empty chair kitchen; half empty bed; unfilled clothes hanging in the wardrobe as ghosts. Everything is cleaner, better.
The Madness royal baby of North Wales
2013 The North Wales Mental Health Research Project
And then me have believed so passionately that we can have an exchange of smell 'gl with ny' sbyty perfume for dinner on the st ô f. The bydda'r quarry dust kinder than the white walls. The'll 'my royal baby calm myself would give way to a quick and bodies greedy royal baby hands of my children. The I'd better ... Unlike.
I'm longing for Ddimbach, as I was longing for Bethesda faster. Hurt, still wanted at home. A fanno'n space gray, a journey by train us somewhere I do not know where he is. Somewhere between the Ogwen Valley and the madhouse, maybe. Between leaving the 'sbyty full of hopes, according to n, healthy. A return to sights faces' curious, aloof tight on me. As they have seen better days lost know who I am, even though I'm one of them ever. My presence ê n be washed fur 'sweat by heating the flush.
Me I can hear by train in the distance, blowing his cloud 'to the hot blue sky. She sounds like she's seen better days breathing. In something living to rescue people from their districts brutal childhood. She will go and then me, today, royal baby if it does ... In my haste to return to.
Last night, in the belly of the night, with no moon illuminates the bedroom small but crazy boy, I watched the children are asleep. Everything was in black and white cola 'colored milk, both as still as a fallen bodies under their cynfasa'.
I've made my Ora 'blue ... After trying pruning and nurturing my will: change myself for these. But it is weak and pale 'Ora' royal baby to blue, and I see 'not the unbearable royal baby weight wool with them other than their bodies, a burden too heavy for me to be able to' ddiodda '. Swollen flesh and blood and hair and gwinadd of bowels for, thou art my children belong only to me.
I can see the st ê m by train from rising in the distance, beyond the trees. It will be here soon, and I ga 'Inna' escape. From before me, like a scar across the track, the tracks, hard and firm tenderness amid the trees. Waiting. Waiting. He escorted me to my engine comes here: I can I leave again.
There's a fashion nostalgia, ready, for what will be left of me. John, and the Cloud 'in his eyes when he looked at me. Laughter of children arising from the backyard, a chaotic merry. Breath Afon Ogwen back street of shadows, whispering words only requires' that does not exist.
Me. In the bedroom mirror, and my face'm pale as the moon last night, showed nothing. The mirror blank is now: neat lines of the room just to see it, and somehow, there's a comfort as warm at the thought of that. Thinking about all the vacancies will be after me. Empty chair kitchen; half empty bed; unfilled clothes hanging in the wardrobe as ghosts. Everything is cleaner, better.
The Madness royal baby of North Wales
2013 The North Wales Mental Health Research Project
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