fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless sky’s ‘i can’t be loved, swallowed or digested. must i make myself smaller?’
[text id: this thought was unceasing: somewhere must be home. / the spine-folding need to belong was woven into my skin. no amount of clawing could ever get it out. / it scared me that even at my very best, i wouldn’t be able to stop myself from being fond of the tearing. isn't mauling touch? the warmth of a hand close to you, right before is tears you apart, is something.]
if i were god i'd put an end to this but i'm not and i'm upset and disappointed and i can't hold on to hopes anymore and i wish i were wrong and that it's going to get better but it won't.
Camonghne Felix, from Dyscalculia: A Love Story of Epic Miscalculation
[Text ID: “I wanted to be free from the cage of my mind’s silent torture, from the violence of my mother’s guilty worry, free to print myself out in the world like a watermark, to let my ugliness shimmer in the mirror and my heaviness take swim.”]