breasts, once touched til my heart
was RAW-
please stop-
flimsy layer of lace no shield,
now sway, stretched with
nurturing
those little red lips
those closed eyes
small hands clutched close
how can i hate these breasts, still?
stomach, once held sucked in a constant POPULARITY
contest
now squishes out, having won 3 times
-MAMA-
but i had no mama to help me push these
little ones out
where was she, then,
and now?
no was meaningless.
hands felt helpless
now cradle sweet, sweaty palms.
voice left powerless
now sings lullabyes
and kisses boo-boos away.
old body, ragged cavern of hate
(don't look, don't want, don't touch)
new body, birth-scarred victorious
nursing love and milk
wombing body and soul
turned inside OUT.
(this was a response to a homework assignment my counselor asked me to do-to look in the mirror in my underclothes and make statements of affirmation. it was exceedingly hard to do, and painful. thank you for letting me share here)
5 comments:
This is really beautiful. Really. Thank you for sharing, and for admitting how difficult it was. Sometimes it is easy to read the words of others and take for granted all of the hard work and tears that can go into them. It is good to be reminded of the priveledge it is to peer into hearts and lives.
birth-scarred victorious
very affirming, friend.
Okay, this is beautiful. And heart-wrenching.
Voice left powerless now sings lullabies. My heart-oh my heart. Love the chance to know you and your beautiful redemptive story. Found you from Elora's blog and your encouragement on my guest post!
i have no words. only the deepest of admiration.
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