Homecoming - Ask Molly

When will you honor these monsters? Slipping through dark currents, one mile down with scales the color of lemon curd, two miles down with fluorescent blue-green eyes and rows of sharp teeth shimmering like daggers, three miles down with tangerine reading lights hanging from their foreheads, four miles down with fifteen violet legs and a torso ten feet wide and seventy feet long, eighty eyes sparkling red like wine, with one tiny mouth hidden among the eyes, whispering no one loves me for who I am, no one understands me, no one sees me clearly, no one gives me what I need. You can’t put a thing like that in a tank. It thrives under the pressure of miles of ocean, a crushing mountain of water splintering its words into spiked fragments that scatter and shatter until, just seconds after it speaks it says, I’m not sure that’s true actually and I’m telling stories again and this is about me not you. But five miles down, there is another beastly thing, glowing the sweetest shade of summer p

When will you honor these monsters? Slipping through dark currents, one mile down with scales the color of lemon curd, two miles down with fluorescent blue-green eyes and rows of sharp teeth shimmering like daggers, three miles down with tangerine reading lights hanging from their foreheads, four miles down with fifteen violet legs and a torso ten feet wide and seventy feet long, eighty eyes sparkling red like wine, with one tiny mouth hidden among the eyes, whispering no one loves me for who I am, no one understands me, no one sees me clearly, no one gives me what I need. You can’t put a thin