As a girl, surviving in the quiet lull between abuse I chose to delete from consciousness and before the torture of memory began, I explore stories. The poet Sylvia Plath. The movie Girl, Interrupted with Winona Ryder. The photographs of Francesca Woodman. These girls, like me, lived in a world without having skin. I searched for clues about how to live. Was I destined to commit suicide like Francesca, jumping out of a loft building at 22?

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