And sometimes I worry I’ve married my father

On Love: The birds swarmed in my throat, flying around the words I need, I need, I need

I’ve buried my needs under the needs of others for as long as I can remember. I’ve hid them from my family, my friends, myself. It’s taken me years to uncover them, to know what they are. And even longer to understand them.

When I think of why or how I became this way, it leads me back to the stucco-covered house in the Mojave, with fire ants in the front yard, blankets nailed over the windows, and growing piles of stolen goods in the corners of every room.