I owned my body once but now my body owns me.
It bends me,breaks me,
gnarls my fingers, splits my nails,
paints me in red and grey and brown,
splinters my bones, shreds my skin,
leaches the colour from my lips and eyes.
My body tells me what to do and why
where once I gave the orders-love here,love there.
The takeover was a slow affair,
painful, it diminished me,
but I can say now all is over.
The crying is finished with the kissing. All is quiet
except for a little late rebellious heat,
a random pang of memory in the blood.
I suppose the degree of "acceptance" may be determined by the timing of the takeover?!
ReplyDeleteTakeover time varies with the individual, I suppose.
ReplyDelete