Song of Myself #7 A Fairy Tale

I forget how physical this is
how I process everything through the body
how it could be no other way than this way is why
I lay in bed curled up for hours. Days. I can’t move
or lift my head. I wait. I wait
for the pain to back off. Back away now.
I am not soft or wet, bloody. New. Birthed
in the element of Air without wings.
Dear Earth,
Please support me.
Damp, Rich, Dry. Shaking.
Before there was fear and before that, it’s absence.
Fluid easily channels every grief and violent tendency.
This is not the whole of me.
This is (in) my body. Before,
there was fear & Pain! I reeked
of them. I cried my heart out.
I Cry, Out! Pushed back. Pushing back.
Resisted resisting. Resisting. Couldn’t escape
my insides. Can’t escape now. Not now.
I am not strong enough to give up this world and walk through it.
I am the invisible shadow.
Fate’s bastard baby. Heaven’s little bitch. A Supernova. A Fool.
I miss my family.
I’ll never know what normal is.

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