Ink Stained Soul…

I’m not calculated. I have spent my life trying to access danger, to read the room and gauge potential trouble. I note exits, faces, and the people who might step in, trying to control my nervous system from triggers. Will I smell those scents, see a piece of clothing like theirs somewhere, or hear a phrase used when I was not safe? If I leave abruptly, I’m not playing a game – I am fleeing from what my body feels like I may break if I don’t get home. I use humor to keep myself shielded, a mask that I swear sometimes I fool myself. My thoughts are never able to process everything being said because I’m on high alert, trying to keep everything in my sight. I have lived through so many horrific things that I can’t be normal. It is something I will never experience. So you see, I don’t have time to play a game – I’m too busy trying to survive so I never have to experience another moment like that again.