My mom and dad are sitting in the kitchen. All is calm. Wind bursts through the seams of the house and my lungs give into it like a prayer. Magnolias drench the air and I can taste their sweet kiss. I’m unraveling in my own way- bright eyed and hungry for the world. It was once mine to hold, until it wasn’t. We kept smiling, but the floor began to crumble. I balanced over the wreckage and held onto my parent’s hands. We swayed and stumbled and laughed and cared and loved. We loved so fucking much, even as the house collapsed. Said I’d take care of things. I’d build a new home for us. I’d give every piece of me if it meant keeping this feeling alive for a bit longer. The world stings. It knows how to bring you close to death without killing you. Tempts you into deep waters and grabs you by the throat before you drown. I’m begging for things to feel simple again. I want to feel a gentle tug that leads me back home. I want to laugh without sadness trying to rob me of the moment. I want to open that door to find my mom and dad sitting in the kitchen. -AMT©️