They acted like they could burn out your light bulb. Like they knew
our make and model.
It’s a tragedy, jealousy. It started at birth, masked with daily doses
of pharmaceuticals and traumatic damage that turned the family into
my abuser.
Undergoing the worst of the pandemic of post-traumatic stress, I
shook through my whole golden years. Scenes of happy moments, the
saddest twists with “Vinnie”—not knowing why I kept the same
patterns. It started at birth and ran its course through my teen years
and early adulthood, now coming to its final stages.
The ending looks like a new beginning for myself.
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