Im living in another woman's house. I take care of it everyday.
I make sure it is just the way she likes it. It isn't mine. Nothing
but a pot or pan here or there. My pack of smokes on the table. I
have my bed that I sleep in and some other personal items but it is
not my house.
This is NOT my houseI feel out place and at home all at the same
time. Her son is her and he loves me so. Her husband is here too,
he thinks the world of me. I love them both but this house is hers
and she is gone. She is gone never to return. It wasn't supposed to
be this way. I miss her so much.
RIP Sharon 1956-2016
It is her home and I miss her so much. She should be her
enjoying it, and cleaning it! Ha! I love doing it all, but this is
not my house.
