It was never your body.
Not yours to label and criticize
determine what was meant for public eyes
decide what I'd miss when I gained weight
or to sexualize since I was eight
Not yours evaluate and shame
Not your skin and limbs to claim
Or to choose it's designated purpose
Or to conclude when it was merely worthless
No, it was never yours.
But it's mine to love and appreciate
Present in ways you'd never validate
Because it's my body, not inherently sexual
Or disgusting, but my being and home
I'm proud even if you're not because this body is my own.
YOU ARE READING
Quiver
Poetrya place where I've written my feelings when I felt them. it has become a story of depression and recovery, love and loss, hope and fear, and everything in-between. mostly poetry, sometimes stories. :)
