Image: Performance documentation of Eiko Otake’s A Body in Hong Kong
There was a time when the only
thing I felt was mine were my cutting thoughts.
I woke to please others. I was unsure
of who I was, what I wanted. I only knew
that I was afraid of everything: used tissue,
puppies, a penis ripping my vagina. Anger
propelled me through the world. I lived so small
that I was visible to few.
I thought I could keep to myself.
I could keep myself
hidden, so that madness stayed within me, leaving
all around me unsullied. I was a wound
moving through the world, undressed. I was funny
in the head. No one was laughing but me.