At this point, I should know about these things, but I don’t. I should see then coming, anticipate them, but, they stretch my skin tight, and beat themselves against me in strange, terrifying, war rhythms.

I want to know if I am too simple, or if they are too complex, for me to see, feel,  hear, smell, taste, know that they are bearing down and about to blanket me.

I want to learn how I can condition myself not to let them steal the breath from my lungs, the sanity from my head, the hope from my religion. I want to know the escape route for when I realize I would not survive a conditioning of this sort.

Babies in cages.

I am not too simple. There is no escape. This really is war.