Every time I lay in a doctor’s office with my legs spread open, as the nurse beside me shifts her eyes. When I’m used up and thrown into bed by those with ulterior motives. When I can’t find the words to write a story because every syllable falls flat, a punctured image of something much more complex. I can feel my anatomy howling from the pages flipped over in biology textbooks. And while my body is discussed and erased and silenced, my mind is invisible too.