I clung on to my nap times and my cotton candy and my scraped knees, thinking my whole world could be made of stories that had crayon-drawn the line between right and wrong, between good and evil. But I found that there were worlds that waltzed upon that line, and there were people who could wound me so much deeper than blood.
I am not a child anymore.
I have caged all my monsters and now I keep them in the boxes underneath my bed. These are the words I have used to cage them.