I try to talk. I really do. I search every nook and cranny of my being to find the anger that I was hell-bent on holding on to when I first came here, but I come up empty. I pry my tongue from the roof of my mouth and search for more words to give. But they’ve all disappeared. And I’m tired of fighting, so I press my face into the palm of his hand and I nod, letting him be the calm to my chaos.
