How I realised I have been protesting all this while – within the closed quarters of my home.
This is a letter written to my body about how I am reclaiming it.
I will be different, ever so slightly. Won't I?
A poem about how our dreams and aspirations are squished out of us as we grow up.
It runs through my heart, sings in my ears and loves me with its gentle touch.
Interviewees report being told their identity is just a 'phase'.
You may know all this already, but in this moment you are me – a ghost of my past.