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Growing up, my body was a prison, a fleshy confine I didn’t ask for – but instead was given.
A body I didn’t ask for, didn’t want – a jail that I felt trapped in – Blemishes, cuts, snags, bumps and bruises: details that dress the body I felt unapt in.
Well lived in, never loved.
But mine all the same.
Author |
Anonymous
topic on |
STORY ON
section |
MIND
DROWNING
2019
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