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.