Ashton:
I don’t know what it is about the trauma that latches to your soul like a leach. But it does…
I don’t know what it is about the body that experienced those days that tried to end you, but even in the safest of comforts, that body remembers every touch, every rough grip that rips your skin, every punch that paints lights like stars in the night sky… but it does…
I don’t know what it is about the person who raised themselves when the world turned its back, or how they force themselves forward under the persistent falsehood of being okay, of saying “I’m fine.” with a smile… but they do…
Yet as I tumble through cotton sheets under the scent of an unfamiliar breeze, saying, “I’m fine.” It isn’t possible. It’s as if my brain lost that version of my lie, and all that is left is, “Plea
