When I was little, I used to lay outside and reach my hands up to the sky above, convinced I could touch the great moving clouds if I just extended my arms a little further…

And if I could touch the great moving clouds, I could grasp onto little cotton handholds and they would pull me away. I would let the clouds envelope me in a great white blanket, and I would finally feel safe and secure.

When I was little, I used to lay outside and imagine my delicate little feet running along the surface of the great moving clouds, as if I could run around the world so fast I could follow the sun and I would never see the night again.

And if I could run along the surface of the great moving clouds, I could run away just the bunny in _Runaway Bunny_ and then maybe you would search all over the world until you find me and gather me up in a warm fluffy hug and tell me you love me and how sorry you are.

When I was little, I used to imagine laying outside and making animals out of the great moving clouds and pretend those animals were in a zoo waiting to be released back into the wild by a heroine like me.

And if I could imagine making animals out of the great moving clouds that lived in a zoo, I could imagine not releasing the animal back into the wild that caused me to spend so much time dumping beer and liquor into the sink, and begging and pleading to not leave in the middle of the night.

When I was little…

_Slammed doors_

I used to lay outside…

_Screaming, shouting, cursing_

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__

To escape.