It spits out memories like bullet rounds at unexpected times, short bursts of power that leave me momentarily maimed & gasping & completely unprepared for the fallout. It takes me back to a dark, dank closet with a locked door, to a room bathed in twilight and ice that still feels like my fault, to a dusty country road where I turned back when I might have escaped. My brain is like an AK-47 but isn’t that what makes us human? Taking a bullet to the gut now & then, absorbing the pain but not allowing it to kill us. Continue reading My Brain Is Like An AK-47