voiceless
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Mine
The way my “no” used to get scrapedoff the platelike it didn’t belong there. I used to think saying no was dangerous.That my voicewas optional.That my boundariescould be bentby someone else’s appetite. So I chewed and I swallowedsociety’s thoughts of what I should be.It lingered in the bite I didn’t want to takebut did anyway.… Continue reading
