Something about being used and sold like an object never leaves you. I still feel like property, I still feel like it’s my responsibility to make others happy at the expense of my own body and soul. What do I deserve? It pains me that how much I’m worth is less than a trip to the grocery store these days, like spending money on groceries just like someone would pay for a human object. Sickening. Foul. It makes me want to turn my body inside out and hose it down with boiling water and dish soap. I wish I could rip myself away from my body, let go of the somatic sensations left by ghosts. But for now I am trapped in here and learning how to live in this unruly body.