This is what I’ve felt like for the last 4 days. Ok.  Two weeks.  One false move and I will strike and poison you. Or at least bite. This may not even be a poisonous spider.  Today is the first day since Friday that I showered.  There are things happening around me that have nothing to do with me or my life yet both my brain and heart have internalized them.  I can’t let this one situation go.  I’ve obsessed about her for weeks.  I dream about her.  I wonder if she’s lucky she got out so soon at age 9? Then I feel ashamed I think of her as lucky.  She’s in so many pieces.  And I keep thinking I could help.  I could save her. I could put her back together.  And then the shame. The shame of that I’ve been cutting in some form since I was 5.  To deal with this life and family I was given.  To deal with them.  Their flaws and lies.  Their own fucked up coping mechanisms.  This is my life.  I feel like I’ve I’ve sinned not saving her.  There’s not much left to save in me.  But that little girl with her blue eyes and the puppy in her lap-She was worth saving.  She deserved a life. A life of love, flowers, stars, secrets, poems on crumpled paper from a shy crush.  Books, stories to share.  Opinions to be stubborn about, surprise books on her favorite topic.  Anything to keep her here and alive.  So she could grow up.  Alive. But she won’t.  Her body is in at least 15 pieces. And I am barely holding on the longer this goes.