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Tales of the temple belonging to angel.
My youngest memory of my body was school clothes shopping, and god how I hated it.
I loathed how those tiny iridescent chrome mirrors could make the entire world fade into the black abyss that was my non existent self confidence.
I distinctly remember the taste of blood on my tongue each time my mother ran her fingers through the shopping racks with such expertise.
And after the first day, I'd already decided my poor body's fate, and it was at our own demise.
I remember the pounding in my ears as we stood in line at the dressing rooms,
And how much I cried when something didn't fit just right, and how those chrome mirrors stood staring back at me with frozen frosted eyes.
Clothes Shopping was the first most memorable part of my body's own demise.
The second most memorable feeling of disdain towards my body was at my very first pool party, and how I absolutely positively hated the gaudy neon colored swimsuit we'd picked out at a discount store.
I believe this is the first time that I desired to cut away at pieces of myself,
To make myself smaller, To disappear into the ocean of nothingness that was the love I held for myself.
And even now, as I am sitting here writing this in nothing but a sports bra and a pair of shorts,
I sometimes wonder if the hate for myself was destined to become a part of me like the way that our lungs whoosh in and out with the air that we breathe.
And as I am sitting here I am realizing that the hatred that lives inside my body's bones is being drowned out by how much I am in love with myself sometimes.
I loathed how those tiny iridescent chrome mirrors could make the entire world fade into the black abyss that was my non existent self confidence.
I distinctly remember the taste of blood on my tongue each time my mother ran her fingers through the shopping racks with such expertise.
And after the first day, I'd already decided my poor body's fate, and it was at our own demise.
I remember the pounding in my ears as we stood in line at the dressing rooms,
And how much I cried when something didn't fit just right, and how those chrome mirrors stood staring back at me with frozen frosted eyes.
Clothes Shopping was the first most memorable part of my body's own demise.
The second most memorable feeling of disdain towards my body was at my very first pool party, and how I absolutely positively hated the gaudy neon colored swimsuit we'd picked out at a discount store.
I believe this is the first time that I desired to cut away at pieces of myself,
To make myself smaller, To disappear into the ocean of nothingness that was the love I held for myself.
And even now, as I am sitting here writing this in nothing but a sports bra and a pair of shorts,
I sometimes wonder if the hate for myself was destined to become a part of me like the way that our lungs whoosh in and out with the air that we breathe.
And as I am sitting here I am realizing that the hatred that lives inside my body's bones is being drowned out by how much I am in love with myself sometimes.
Published 24th Jun 2021
Author's Note
Despite it all, there are parts of my body that have never known the love that runs through my veins, And yet I still try so hard to show it.
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29th Jun 2021 3:14am
Loved the image - "chrome mirrors stood staring back at me with frozen frosted eyes."
Yes, the mirror is so unforgiving, but I think how we see ourselves is also reflected there. Be kind to yourself, young poet.
Yes, the mirror is so unforgiving, but I think how we see ourselves is also reflected there. Be kind to yourself, young poet.
