this animal is my self
it demands care, quietness, aliveness
infused as it is with primordial light and dread
sometimes I am only ears and eyes and fingers
and legs and *** and spine, a stomach, a liver and
a heart, sweat, tension and craving, a felt unity
vital stories to be told in the forgotten language
of hope and despair, longing and refusal
there is earth in my hands, air in my eyes, fire
in my stomach, water in my skin
untranslatable whispers about you, the other-me
I am a thirsty boundary for the river of life to dream
sighs symbols rythms harmonies and virtues

The long way back
to my skin's old threshold
limits, replacing the alarm
with a notification
without crisis consultation

and more
than the sensation
of smells and tastes
and more
than the satisfaction
of strength and fatigue

and more
than laughing muscles to feel
there is contact
in between thinking
Placing a lot at a distance
to have space close by

to be balanced
and to love myself
to accept touches
uninhibited, not creeping
like the scent of wisteria

I struggle so deeply
to feel at home in my body,
all I feel when I look at my chest
is all of the men that used me like a doll
of my mom shaming me in my head
for my *******
and how "provocative " I am
for just existing,
for society sexualizing me,
for all the women that hated me for my body/looks,and objectified me
and all the men that "loved"  me /used me just for my body and sexualized me
with their eyes.

It hurts  so deeply to feel so violated  all the time
it echoes in my mind,body and soul
all the repeated violations words, looks and all the aching laughter,
the way everyone  in my family
sexualized me since I was a child,
so intern I internalized all the hatred to my body and my chest.

I just wander if these people  truly understand
how much their actions truly affect others,
how deeply I suffer with complex post trauma all the time
and dysphoria sometimes,
from the deep pain of ****** violence

when I truly look at it all,
its not even wanting to be a man
so much so , as wanting to be seen as a person.

who is worthy of being heard,
not because I am pretty ***** or curvy
or hot or ****,
but because I am smart I am strong
I am  impressive  and resiliant
have a beautiful mind
and I am not just how I look
or how I present.

My whole life I was influenced and taught to believe
that my only value as a women
was my looks,
or to be chosen by a  man or by my society,
and to exist as a  baby making machine,
while not complaining or being "too much ".
That I shouldn't show my body too much , & that I should always look good 24/7,like I am a doll of some kind, instead of a human being.

How my body was the reason for men sinning
and how I would go to hell for my thoughts or behaviors
if I wasn't perfect.

Now I am realizing none of that truly matters,
and I don't wanna live the rest of my life
chasing validation,
or feeling like I need others approval to feel whole inside,
I wanna accept who I am
love who I am
and like myself for who I am,
and not just for my looks or for my body or sexuality,
but for who I am down to my core
the good and the seemingly bad imperfections
to feel safe in myself and that is beautiful to just be me
without needing to put on a show for anyone.

The world a force to pray
The months and years  
Looking up at the sky rays
The change of force
Takes over any course
Change of luck
The winning horse
Nature takes the course
Lighting fuse
Change of force
Growing full force
Godly- Rose
Tearing- forgiving
The change of force
Prepares us to a better living
  Do a* change* of* good

After our working day we look
at the Beautiful World, where
duties and rules do not apply
and the Stars can shine

We look up to them
We see that it exists
and that is a comfort, especially
if there is something to gossip about

There may be more
than admiration, entertainment
conveniences and wealth, but
that doesn't buy me anything

Certainly not happiness
if one is not as rich
as the Stars are
made by us

Boys look past
my shyness
I don't understand

So beautiful I see my feelings
in my face, my forms
in the mirror

Why doesn't anyone
want to enjoy me?
The beauty of a boy

discovered inside and out
by my skin
my curious body

In other people's houses
I capture the beds
in my dreams

None of them invite me
Can they see in me
how critical I am?

You wait that one car when all bodies come home
You wait somehow
There are Clouds
tender Sun light
and Trees weathering with the wind
Yet the mountains are
graceful
You wait.