Do you know what it’s like?
To be cut open, and cut open, and cut open again?
It is a distancing thing. Impossible to explain. Impossible as it is to measure the distance between the brain and the mind. Between my mind and yours.
The landscape of my consciousness is vast, and empty now of those sparks and threads that connect me to others.
It is a distancing thing, this trauma. Such a banal word now, trauma.
Where am I? Where have I been? Why do I feel I have to apologize for my new sensitivities, and my anger, and my exhaustion? Why do I have to explain these things in words? Can you not see? Can no one see how the narrative o