somebody will see, tell you
that your body is a temple
and worship the depths of you
And then somebody will tell you that your body is not
and try to mark you up
beat it into your flesh & bone until you turn colours
until your body is a canvas
his canvas
They will tell you that your body is wrong
And they’ll say it with their eyes
with images of other bodies,
“perfect” bodies
glaring in accusation at you
with snide comments about what you are
eating until you start to wither
instead
and then they’ll say your body is too small
you are shrinking skin and bones oh no
and they will find that when your skeleton is
arching out of your flesh
the ugliest of all
and tell you to get better soon
as you lie your head on the bathroom floor
dizzy
you’ll look at yourself in the mirror
and forget
that words are just words
Your body won’t be done hurting though
Because there will be some people who will take your body
you will say no, you will try to make it stop
but they will take of you
your innocent trust in friends
family and strangers
they will strip you vulnerable & scared
of sleeping.
And your body will hurt, first inside
And then forever.
But there will also be days when you will give your body away
Fleeting moments of joy
At feeling real, at feeling breath leaping out
of your lungs
and shuddering and gasping as if you will
never get enough air again
aching and sore from the tips of your toes to the v
of your thighs to your eyes
still closed in memory.
Somebody will hold you and you will feel loved
Despite your body’s scars
invisible and visible
I also know that we will die &
this body will maybe live out
every breath possible before
it’s done
or maybe life will find a way
to end first
Prematurely stealing years
You promised
To yourself
Either way, your body will be gone
But memory of you will remain.
nancyornot 