“It’s just a body. Nothing special.” If that were true, why did they want it? Why couldn’t it belong to me? Mama called it child’s want, something you grow out of. But the moment I recognized this loop existed, I poked holes at it to find an exit. There were times light shone through the pinpricks, but inevitably, reality was patchwork, sealing and stealing until there was only me and the dark. Like the beginning. End. Beginning . . .
