My body holds a secret. It demands
to tell me, but won’t whisper it to you.
Shh, sealed lips. Cover the fevers, blisters.
Hide girls with invisible illnesses.
Don’t bring this shame upon your family
by airing your dirty laundry, bad bones,
damaged skin out in public. That’s private.
Hoop it all up under your skirt, save it.
Secretly, I’m a magician full of
mystery. Sleight of hand, and you’ll miss the
limp, the bumps, at least politely pretend.
But guess what? Your body has a secret
too. We all have bought the illusion of
permanent longevity and beauty.
A place for stories about chronic illness, disability, mental health, and neurodivergence.
