“sloughing my skin / escaping it's grip / stripped of my wit / it hurts to be me .”

“Gripping my arm, Mother held it in the orange-blue flame. My skin seemed to explode from the heat.”

“Once again the absurdity of my inner thoughts overwhelms me, and I want to crawl out of my skin, escape my ugly, awkward flesh and be a skeleton, naked and anonymous.”

“My thoughts took frantic flight, wanting to escape this prison, and seek out the wind so it could fan my hair and sting my skin, and make me feel alive again.”

“For me, stripping was an unusual kind of escape. I had nothing to escape but privilege, but I claimed asylum anyway. At twenty-four, it was my last chance to reject something and become nothing. I wanted to terrify myself. Mission accomplished.”

“Running my fastest not from my past. Running from those who have hurt me in it. And, they can't catch me anymore. I escaped from the land of make believe.”