My body has been bent and broken, twisted and reshaped, discarded and used, numerous times throughout my life. Yet, I have somehow managed to emerge relatively unscathed. Sure, there are pieces of me that I can’t get back, pieces left behind in the Compound and then at the court hearing with the judge. I’m less whole than I once was, but I’m still breathing. My lungs are still capable of taking in air. My heart can still beat, though the rhythm is unsteady. My hands no longer shake when I contemplate all I have endured and all I will continue to endure.
