I finally felt it.
The taste of freedom.
The feeling of trust.
The feeling of relaxation.
Feeling comfortable at the end of the day.
Feeing happy with the people I wanted to know all these years.
But here we go again.
The lack of a voice.
The restrictions.
The anxiety of existing.
The stitches on my cords.
The newly polished steel bars.
The the uniform that hangs on my mannequin with it’s stiff strands of white cotton string.
And people wonder why I dearly want to be naked.













