Dissatisfaction of the body. This desire to be more comfortable in a fabricated body, as if a controlled body would be safe from distaste. It truly is a disguise. I’m talking but they are not listening, as if I’m not even a person. This body doesn’t feel like a body, more like an object of beauty.
Something you can admire, something you can use, something I hate.
Sometimes I feel like a doll, but not in the good way.