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Probably bad poem about my own fears of flesh
My own flesh is not my own. I am afraid that one day, in extreme pain, my body will unravel, leaving me with nothing. I am afraid that one day a doctor or dentist will fuck up, and my mouth or limbs will no longer be my own.
I am afraid of losing bodily autonomy. I am afraid, sometimes, of the courtroom, contruing the way and how I use it. Sometimes, I am afraid of gaining pregnacy weight, and not losing it. How it will sag and slow me down, with nothing to hold it up. Then everyone will call me fat, and people will pressure me to exercise more. But I am not afraid of pregnancy, it is the birth I am more afraid of. Which is worse, injections or pain for hours on end?
My body and my brain are the only things of me and to me, and that I completely one hundred percent have. It is only natural that I worry.
Not homophobic!
Every url that reblog’s will be written in a book and shown to my homophobic dad.
A story because I was sad.
Prolog
Consequences, Mel Morgenstern knew there would be many, with every decision lately, but especially with as bold a decision he had made. No, decision wasn’t quite right, more of… action, moment, emotion even. He knew he should’ve kept his hands out of Vera’s pants,but he didn’t. And now he was looking at the screaming and shitting consequences. A boy. Ugg, a filthy baby boy, he was ashamed of himself for being almost excited when Vera had secretly called him. What was the name again? Star? Stephan? Whatever it was, it was a loud ugly hairless thing. He put his thumb in his mouth, just to see what would happen, and the thing had the audacity to suckle! His thumb! Like an idiot! But at least he quieted down, and looked at him. Really looked at him, with the big eyes, and a reminder of her smile, of his mistake. He had to get rid of this thing, ohh but he had promised her. To take care of the boy, well, what could be better than robotic enhancements to protect him, or better yet an adult upgrade!
Mal smiled as he walked to one of his top scientists laboratory, Sergio Webb. The covered blanket in his hands only wiggling now, unaware of its journey to do…protection. Yes, better protection. Frankly Vera would probably thank him for this, he probably wouldn’t mind, and children are a lot to handle…