This is where I come from

This is where I come from.

Vermont. The Country.

Of simple means. A roof over our heads and food in our stomachs.

But not much else.

A wood-burning stove.

An annual trip to the beach.

Friends who saved me but never knew it.

Big brother.


Terror and Dysfunction [not pictured].

Trauma and loss.

This is not your bedtime story.

Bloated faces, soaked in toxicity.

Is that you, Mom?

Yes, yes it was.

Until she Wasn’t.


The day you left us.

The day I changed.


17 years later.

And it feels like yesterday.