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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