Vivid dreams and far away thoughts. These things all mean the same. I’m my father’s giving spirit and my mother’s tenderness. I hold it all underneath my pillow in hopes of drifting off to a place that feels like home. Grieving feels like a hole in my rib cage- and when I laugh too loud or yell back at the world, I feel it rattle. Underneath the scope of all this healing and changing and fearing lies a person, I swear. I miss pieces of her everyday and I hope in some other life she chooses bravery. Until then, she’ll tuck herself away in the monotony. She’ll long for things that feel far away and take up loneliness as a hobby. She’ll write about getting better and be the best con in convincing everyone else that she’s already healed. She’ll dream vividly and reach for empty spaces she once occupied as the far away thoughts make a home in something new. -AMT©️