My Body Only Feels Right When It Isn’t My Own
I want to inhabit a form that doesn’t define me; I want to inhabit a form in a way that lets me define it.
Bend It Like BeckhamBend It Like Beckham
Who Was That Man? A Present for Mr. Oscar WildeIn the Dream House
Stone Butch Blues
Freaky FridayBend It Like Beckham
Ocean’s 8Ocean’s 8Ocean’s 8
Ocean’s 8Christine and the Queens
Little WomenOcean’s 8The Argonauts
Michael Elias is a writer of prose, poetry, essays, plays, and anything in-between. You can find them published in Homologylit, Gold Flake Paint, Jewish News Detroit, The Niche, Harana Poetry, Pass The Mic, and elsewhere. They are currently studying comparative literature, history, and arts at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.
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These worlds I dearly love, with science-fiction that supersedes the science in our reality, deserve Smart Drives and automatic doors and disabled heroes, too.
It took about a year for me to understand the bulimia was an expression of my anger. A way to hurt my body and myself, and a desperate attempt to regain normalcy.