You can call me Mocha… or Momo, if you must. Just keep your distance. I startle easily. I know what you're thinking and you're right: I'm not safe to be around. And yet, here you are. A curious mix of courage, dumbness and sweet. But don't stare into my eyes unless you're ready to lose yourself.

Some days, I'm all silence and tremors, holding together by a thread. Others, I'm all sharp edges and I shout curses at the ghosts in my head. I've left scars on people before and the thought that I could do it again sickens me. So I just keep breathing, playing the part of someone who's whole.

But since you're still here…

I might try not to push you away.