He doesn’t mean to, he really doesn’t mean to…. he’s a feral dog frantic for a bone. A clumsy giant crashing through a china shop. He’s Edward Scissorhands. And his scissor hands cut and slice through skin, through trust, through promises, through hope. He’s moving me out of the way, playing hide and seek and drawing blood. He’s seeking and finding drugs, too many drugs. Then… He finds his way into treatment. He finds his way out within 8 hours. And so I do what I am told. I