Zoe could tell every time. When the Bunny Monster wanted to hold her or touch her, little Zoe would scream. When Mom returned to her body in a few minutes, it was okay. Single moms on crack. Document 1 Document one.
Words seem frightening now, like boobie traps, or truth long-hidden, full of teeth.
There is aching fear, welling pools of loss. It is nightmare. Madness being a lack of clarity, a seeing from only one point of view, flat where depth is true, or worse still, faux depth ruled only by the artist's perspective. There is a shuddering dread of what I might find if I stay here and put words down. That love is but an arbitrary game, a fierce freedom of choice, not dictated by depths of recognition, but only foisted by memory and circumstance.