The Shape I was Allowed to Be

This body is not a body of choice;it is a body of adaptation.A body that is cracked, patched,and yet still sitting, still not collapsed. The red areas are not wounds meant to be fresh;they are traces of pressure.Pressures that never became screams,because screaming had a cost. The face is half erased,not for forgetting,but for becoming tolerable.Because in this place,being complete is dangerous.Having feelings is dangerous.Being loud, being a woman, being different,being too much all must be halved. The body leans against the frame,not from calm,but from exhaustion.This is not the gesture of surrender;it is the gesture of survival. This “I”is not the shape I wanted to be,it is the shape I was allowed to be.A shape that society, law, fear, censorship,and crushed hopesarrived at together. Pressure here does not scream;it stays inside the skin.In the folds, in the cracks,in a silence that has become ordinary. And yet,the body is still here.Sitting, not fallen.Which means something inside ithas not surrendered.

Chain

TEZOS

Network

Tezos

Contract

KT1LbMjh2Hro8sBJQubkYAqEVwzn44Vi99Vz

Token ID

9