Brief Interlude

I am composed of a collection of imperfections like a car constructed out of discarded spare parts.  I pull my sweater up and look at my distended stomach.  A birthmark stretches across the pale pink flesh like the map of some small country.  I am a prisoner in my own skin and I long to escape.

This is January though.  The month of fresh new dawns and bright beginnings.

I hope.

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2 Responses to “Brief Interlude”

  1. Lola Snow Says:

    I hope so too. For you, for me, and for many others.
    I often feel like a prisoner in my own skin too. Like I am a big greasy sausage, stuffed so tightly that I almost beg to burst open.

    Lola x

    Like

  2. Louise Says:

    I always find winter to be the very worst season in which to be suffering from an ED. You are trapped in your own body and your body is confined by the weather.

    Like

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