As far as I can get.
Unseen and unheard.
"You wanna know what's for dinner? Apple salad."
Stunned into inaction and stunned by the action.
Perpetually in awe, I hold her in my imagination and my heart every day.
"Bita, it's soooo good."
The construct is fragile (and so casually exposed).
Teetering on unstable ground.
Chasms open wider.
Confront the privilege.
Value the work.
Struggling to crest the surface.
No resources. No rescuers. Just critics.
I will rise up. I refuse to be drowned.
No forwarding address.
She'd never be as cute as me.
Whether I like it or not.
I no longer do ironing.
Cheezies are the new bon bons.
Should I stay or should I go now?
You are not my people.
I would cross oceans of time for just one more chance to be with my whole family again, to make it complete again.
I am not alone, and yet.
Making it happen.
Losing the battle.
Adults are the children now.