I burned my hand making Christmas cookies
for my small chosen family-
hoping that it is enough to thank them
for keeping me from falling headfirst
and loosing myself to my own mind.

The world is heavy
and so is my spirit.

I thought I made a mistake today when I again equated  my self worth to numerics.

However, my life is worth more than numbers on a scale.

I have spent years learning to love myself.
I have spent months teaching myself helpful and safe patterns that honor myself.
I have spent weeks unlearning all the negative things I have heard from society about what a body should look like.
I have spent days helping others do the same through talking, art, music, and drama.
I have spent hours exploring my body- my temple.
I have spent minuetes unconsciously making new positive associations.

And I will spend no more seconds hating numerics in relation to my body.

The growth I wish for you will burn strong-
just like your picture and the dried rosemary did tonight.

The words flutter out of your mouth and burn themselves into my back, scarring me forever with the feeling of kindness.

I want to write you messages
on small pieces of paper
and put them in the corners
of the advertisements on the A train
in the hopes that you will see them
and recognize my handwriting
and think of me.