before the surgery I was told it might happen. The sensation of parts of you you didn’t want, still being there after they’re gone. “Your body has to re-adjust itself to new spacing,” they said.
while in a time of need, I felt a cold shadow of a ghost. The sensation of parts of you people don’t even know about, still being dehumanized before your own dead eyes when you think you’re safe. “You’re cute, and you’re cool…but you don’t have the parts that I get satisfaction from. The parts that I like/want,” he says. How does he even know that? I begin to close my legs at work, walk in ways that disguise me better. Begin to feel like a girl, dressing up as a boy. Begin to think that people are going with it to “be nice.”
now. I am getting the phantom feeling…now.
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