trying to purge, stumbling into all the ways i tried to keep safe. opened my sock drawer to find all of the scissors i'd been missing since you left the house-- forgot i had stashed them-- remembered that the drawer below had all our butcher knives. 

what is there to say about someone who can level you so completely, and tell you it's your fault? 

times i moved the pets and all their food and all the potential weapons and food you wouldn't miss out of the kitchen into my bedroom, the door with the soundest lock. you never saw. 

i deserve safety. i thought i also deserved love. maslow might be making me choose.