I didn't wake up enough from a nightmare. Banging my fists against the wall and screaming to unleash myself from these old horrors. Until I discovered myself running through unfamiliar streets of this deserted city at 5:30 in the morning. Cold and alone and terrified. I collapsed against the brick of a building. Tore out my hair and screamed nonsense into the blank breaking day of sky. Because, sometimes, there aren't written words for pain. Only animal sounds. To reify the wounds. Not wearing my glasses, I wasn't sure, even, how to find the path home. No phone. No identification. So, easily, I could have kept running. Disappeared myself away. Instead, I ended up at your door. And you made me wear your blue sweater. And you made me drink your tea. And you made me sleep until noon. Talking words into my ear and hands into my skin that made the whole unimaginable thing turn only imaginable.