meat market.

I keep trying to remember a time where life was simpler. I keep hearkening back to slight impressions of my childhood; fleeting reminiscences of sunlight or laughter or freedom.

Instead, all I can remember is feeling too small, too powerless. My head wouldn't even reach over counters and my every thought was overlooked.

I still dream of a world where I'd matter -- where my beauty would be celebrated instead of my value being measured by my girth. my mass. my substance. my occupation of space.

beauty should never be empirical.

I wouldn't be a mere sum of my measurements -- like a slab of meat pre-weighed and measured for immediate consumption.

I don't know if finding myself is worth losing myself.