Crippling insecurities will eat at everyone and then leave only the bones. Pull your shoulders back and elongate your torso. Is it wrong to feel so fragile sometimes?
Instead I’ll think about laying in lush, wet grass and sinking. I can feel the sun in every follicle, an electric buzzing starts in my toes. I’m going to blend into the ground and play with the hem of my dress. I can hear engines rumbling through the dirt and I know what an open car window feels like. The trees and wooden porches are groaning in the heat. My thighs stick together and my hair is always greasy. I am grateful.