My own body keeps its secrets hidden; even from myself when I refuse to listen.

It screams and screams for attention and when I refuse to hear; it numbs itself in alignment with my wishes.

My body can dictate how much of life I wish to experience — how much I seek to feel. Whether it be dull or feeling.

When I refuse to feel, it closes like the gates of a prison. Inside, I feel numb to any vestiges of emotion; lacking life and freedom.

My body is an imprint of either acceptance or resistance, of condemnation or allowance, of love and care or distrust.

The body is a mirror; blame it not for sadness, anger, worry, nor a self reflected -- False or Aesthetic.