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An open letter to my body
Sometimes I think that I am not strong enough to keep going, that body and I are so tired.
But then I am reminded of what all she has been through, and how much she has survived.
That she has looked death himself in the face and told him to go away,
That she has held us both up when I could no longer.
I have given her nothing but pain and anguish, determined to chip away at the iron clad cage she has left our soul in.
But it is no use, because body is stronger than I will ever be; she is better than me in every single way.
Sometimes I think that we are not strong enough to handle all of this pain,
That the gods made a mistake upon making me; that I am too weak to handle this.
But then I am reminded of the person living deep inside of my lungs, and that she is stronger than I will ever be.
I sometimes regret all of the pain that I have put her through, but I hold her in my arms at night and I try to explain
I tell her that all I have ever known is pain, that living in a body that looks like me has killed the chances of the self love that had ever lived within me.
That when I was smaller I would pray to the gods to make me beautiful, that I would beg and plead with them until I fell asleep.
I tell her that it is not so simple, loving us both; that I am jealous of the woman that she is,
That I am so angry at her because she is every wish on every birthday cake,
Every stray eyelash sent away to the wind, every dandelion in the garden.
She is all that I have ever wanted to be, she is the better version of me that I cannot see.
That I am deathly afraid of the fact that one day she will be strong enough to leave the prison cell that is me.
That one day the beautiful soul living trapped inside of my lungs will have her own home, her own body.
And I will be empty.
But then I am reminded of what all she has been through, and how much she has survived.
That she has looked death himself in the face and told him to go away,
That she has held us both up when I could no longer.
I have given her nothing but pain and anguish, determined to chip away at the iron clad cage she has left our soul in.
But it is no use, because body is stronger than I will ever be; she is better than me in every single way.
Sometimes I think that we are not strong enough to handle all of this pain,
That the gods made a mistake upon making me; that I am too weak to handle this.
But then I am reminded of the person living deep inside of my lungs, and that she is stronger than I will ever be.
I sometimes regret all of the pain that I have put her through, but I hold her in my arms at night and I try to explain
I tell her that all I have ever known is pain, that living in a body that looks like me has killed the chances of the self love that had ever lived within me.
That when I was smaller I would pray to the gods to make me beautiful, that I would beg and plead with them until I fell asleep.
I tell her that it is not so simple, loving us both; that I am jealous of the woman that she is,
That I am so angry at her because she is every wish on every birthday cake,
Every stray eyelash sent away to the wind, every dandelion in the garden.
She is all that I have ever wanted to be, she is the better version of me that I cannot see.
That I am deathly afraid of the fact that one day she will be strong enough to leave the prison cell that is me.
That one day the beautiful soul living trapped inside of my lungs will have her own home, her own body.
And I will be empty.
Published 27th Jun 2021
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