A story- I must be about seven. Inevitably possessed by rage to the point of crying uncontrollably- an often occurrence by this time. But I’m wearing a frilly pink dress-and I’m so angry about it. Because the image is funny, even to me in this state. Even with rage pumping through my veins. This is how I can hold my demons. See them, feel them, know them. They can end with me. That’s a nice thought. They’ve been passed down for a long time, and I’m sure they’re tired.