“Within these borders they call body, I ask to belong and roam free, to feel at one within myself before I transcend to join someone else’s domain. I ask to be sane. And secure. Sure of how I look and feel, not on the cusp of unravelling like acid peels, I ask to be content. That my hair be a decoration and not a tent which I hide behind like the Native Americans protesting the DAPL pipeline, I want to scream. From the beam that rips my face in two I want to yell until my voice knows no more tune, I want the world to hear me too. This battle cry. I want my words to lift to sky and moon, to the past, present and soon, to all colours: white, caramel and maroon, from Austria to Bangladesh to Cameroon. I want control of my soul. I want to feed it and need it. Not having it be something so obscene that I can’t bear to see it. I want to belong in this country they call skin, on the outside looking in, I want a stay, today. To be here for forever and a day, to have this place be somewhere I come home to, every single day. I don’t want to be lost at sea. I want to be free and one with who I be. Like identity is water and ship is me.”



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