At three-and-a-half, a surgeon's knife
Carved my future from my belly
That was the first I learned that even
My body is not mine.
At eight, alone, I staked my claim
When I opened my wrists like early birthday presents.
Inbar Chava Frishman
This is my blog Like it, or not Some of it's good, (Most of it's not) But in the end, it Matters not; I Just needed someplace To ...
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