Like my first memory. On my back. Burning, stinging pain. So many white lights to cast the shadow of my troubled existence. But it reminds me I have eyes.

I was born from an act of perversion and rejected from the person who brought me to life. But looking up, through this clearing of trees, I’m kind of rewriting my harrowing origins. The warm and lively earth is kinder to me than the examination table!

---