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I want to get the fuck out of this bodily prison.





       P and shed these dysfunctional systems.

My fate, in the mouths of strangers.

Strangers exhibiting cognitive dissonance with steadfast enthusiasm.

If you don’t like it, stay home, they say.

You’ll not take my liberty! they scream.

Cloth takes away your liberty–

does your refusal to protect me take away some of mine?

What is wellness? A spectrum? A sliding scale? Do you accrue wellness? Cash it in? How much is wellness worth?

Is your wellness worth more than mine?

Who decides?

The world doesn’t have time for you to be unwell.

You’re slowing it down with your needs.

Step aside and let everyone else enjoy life, won’t you?

Comfort, elusive and hard-won.

Comfort-seeking slips too easily into burden-inducing.

Grief is mean and impolite.

An uninvited dinner guest that stands with its head in your open fridge,

constantly asking, what’s for dinner?

Never satisfied with your answer.

How do you find comfort?

In discomfort, carve a space in your mind

A soft cotton cloud to lay where you don’t feel the weight of your body.

I want to get the fuck out of this bodily prison.

Leslie Blumenstein

April 30, 2021

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