This morning I sat back as I watched the world decay. 
Snow fell into place
What a long season of winter I've settled into. 
Miracles don't always happen and the "Why" is an answer we will never get. 
Once in a while I wonder if the universe favors some people more than others. 
I wait here patiently in a moment of rotting hell with anticipation for the magic that is meant to come. 
Yet this home remains desolate...
Everyday I carry on as if it will be my last, during this time of grief and suffering I wish it were- or quite possibly just the opposite, I wish it were the beginning. 
Though the mere possibility of that may be dim. 
None of that seems to matter now, my only goal is to get through the day in one piece