twenty five years old

I am a baby, fraught with terror and distress. Bewildered, wide-eyed, slack-jawed -- I am learning to self-soothe.

I am hungry, thus hysterical. I am tired, but cannot articulate my malaise. I am frustrated, unable to differentiate need from id.

I am unsure how to communicate my desperation for connection. I am comforted by familiarity in this ever-novel world. My hands know only to reach.

I am helpless, but I am determined to grow strong -- to hold my head up, to sit, to stand, to walk, to run.