If you were to put my body to words,
You'd start with my feet:
Scarred and bruised,
From the miles I've tread,
To have gotten as far as I have.
Feet covered in colors so brilliant,
Even the blind could get a glimpse.
You'd look back on my trail,
To see the grass,
The trees,
The flowers,
Illuminated in what I've left behind.
My legs:
Covered in words,
Animals,
And many faces
Of those I've tread this arduous grove with:
From the past,
Present,
And future.
Legs scattered with bite marks
From the sweet animals that flock to my side;
During the night,
I lay helplessly
Tied to the bed,
While they gnaw at my ankles.
Legs polluted with holes in my thighs
From where people came into my life,
And abruptly left;
Burning holes into my flesh
With their absence.
My hips:
Knives jutting out cleanly,
Entwined in bounteous amounts of ivy.
Hips wrapped in lace,
Pleading release,
Appealing as a ripened peach;
Ready to be bite into.
Hips touched by so many eager hands,
It no longer gives the rush
Of a sports car speeding past
After a warm Summers rain--
It leaves only the feeling of remorse.