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To meet a final end.

I think about this body. I was never its friend.

This body wantes food. I did what I could to eat.

But a body needs a touch not paid for or on demand.

Bodies need fresh air. Air you can’t get lockwd into the crib.

Bodies need to feel safe. But mine I let be punched, burnt, kicked, forced

Mine bled

Mine leak3d tears

Til it lost its voice.

When a body lives like this, food becomea a choice.