i did not follow the caylee anthony trial.

from the little i had heard of the case it seemed pretty open and shut. but who am i to deem innocence and guilt?

haven’t we all faced false accusations?

i have.

it’s a hands triple-tied behind your back, cat hair in your eye, trapped in a door-less, vent-less dark room kind of feeling.

all you have is your teeth and your voice.

in these circumstances i choose my voice. an inside voice. sometimes one that only i can hear.

but it speaks the truth and it prefers singing lullabies of peaceful resolution and understanding, rather than spitting spite.

baring teeth, taking bites…those are someone else’s strappy sandals.

i can’t even kill the cricket under the nightstand.

and. i. HATE. crickets.

but back to yesterday’s verdict, i’m a bit perplexed.

from the snippets i saw casey anthony confuses me.

when i lose my car keys i meltdown to epic proportions: alarms are sound, tears are publicly shed, sirens sound, streets are closed.

when casey anthony lost her precious baby caylee……she went dancing.

i am not a mother. the closest i’ve come to that kind of love are my beloved beasts.

just thinking of my girl lost, taken or harmed by someone and i suddenly understand the word bloodthirsty.

if such event actually were to horrifically occur the above, lullaby, serenading pacifist would not only grow teeth, she’d grow neck ripping fangs, eye gouging claws and all bets would be off.

….someone comes after my child and yes, you may have to lock me up.

something stinks in florida.