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Xaha Jul 2017
I have to move on.
I have to pack away these beautiful memories
Of touch and sight and sound and feel
Of kisses and long walks and longer nights
And instead
I have to focus on the future
And recognize that life is long
And unexpected.

My lovers and friends today
Might not be in my life tomorrow.
While strangers today
Might change my life tomorrow.  
And the lovers and friends of my past might show up again unexpectedly,
Weaving themselves into my future.
But for now
I will remember their strength, their love, their power, and all the ways they made me a better person.
And instead of feeling empty and heavy and sad -
Realize how lucky I was to know them.
For our lives to intersect
And then diverge again
To make way for new memories and experiences.

But I will never forget.
Just keep moving forwards
Since that is the only direction time allows.
Xaha Jul 2017
8:30 AM on the way to school
Dad questions my existence.
How can you be sure you’re real?
And this life isn’t planned or constructed?
Who’s really in control?
Haven’t you heard – when people start looking familiar, it’s because God has run out of extras...

The scorched hills roll by in waves under the clear California sky.
Maybe none of it is real. How would you know?
Maybe you’re the subject of a tv show –
And I’m not really your dad.
And I’m just scripted to have this conversation.

If so

Then
Let them see
My fits of crazy
The ugly faces I make in the mirror
My secret tears
And ***** blood
And demented body
And twisted face
And let them know
That I am human.
After all.
Xaha Jun 2017
As a child
My body was mine.
My plump round stomach
And chubby legs
Felt like a part of me.
There was nothing to change or fix
I was simply me.
And my body was mine.

As a pre-teen
My stomach was biggest at night.
When I looked down,
It was hard to see my toes.
But after a shower, my hair curled softly around my face and fell in waves down my back
And when I looked closely in the mirror
I could see golden flecks in my greens eyes.
My long arms and legs made me fast
And strong.
Despite my protruding stomach,
There was nothing to change –
I was me,
And my body was mine.

As a teen
The hair on my legs was too dark
And made me look like a boy.
The hair in other places disgusted
And angered me.
It would never go away.
The tenderness in my ******* in the morning
Frustrated me
While my flabby arms
Bulging belly
Thick legs
And bulky hips
Stayed hidden in oversized T-shirts
And saggy jeans.
Looking in the mirror -
Was I still me?
Against my wishes
My body was mine.

As a young adult
I discovered the release of running
And the loss of appetite and slim waist that came with it.
Sometimes it would take skipping a meal or two
But when I laid down,
I could feel my rib cage.
Even if my body was out of my control
And continued to change and bleed and contract and expand
I could take it where I wanted
I could push it as far as it could go
I could ******* sweat and feel my heart and lose my breath.
Only in these moments
Was my body mine.

Nearing adulthood
My chest filled out
While my waist shrank to reveal muscle and bone.
My hips afforded a generous hourglass figure;
Heads turned when I walked.
My hair no longer frizzed and fried at the ends
And my teeth shone straight and white after years of braces.
My cheeks glowed and my eyes sparkled.
I discovered the pleasure my body could bring me
And the pleasure it could inspire in others.
My long legs and arms
Were mine
My ******* and hips and ****
Were mine
As were my greens eyes, golden hair, and full lips.

But something inside
Was alien.
Something inside was cold and lonely and afraid
That my body would not be respected
Or loved.
Only used by those who took pleasure in it.
I needed to protect it.
To ensure that my body was mine.

Running and running and running and running
You can only go so far before your mind catches up.
And you can only play being in love so many times
Before you start to wonder, if this body is yours -
Why it feels nothing.

And when you look in the mirror
And recognize little of the child
Or the pre-teen
And the teen
And the young adult –
It’s easy to let anyone use your body.

But with time you realize
That like the carpet bag you sew flags and memorabilia into as you drag it through the world,
Your body is an artefact of everywhere you’ve been.
And everyone who has touched you.
And your muscles move at your command
And your lungs inflate with air
And your heart beats in your chest and resonates throughout your body
And your eyes pick up the smallest movement
From miles away
While your ears can detect a silent breath in a dark room.
And your crooked tooth
Gives you a slight lisp that brings a new tone to your singing.
And your acne scars serve to remind of everywhere you’ve been
While the bruises under your eyes remind of everyone you’ve lost.
And this body is all you have
To carry you through.
And though the outside may change and the face in the mirror may not always seem like your own
Inside, it is me.
And my body is mine.
Xaha Jun 2017
Ugly spider dog
“yuck.”
      “That’s the woman from the Lebanese place around the corner.”
Stiffening
Stomach drops, breathe catches.
Guilt weighs in
Sickening shame.
As he opens the door
Turn around to peek
Did she see me?
In my bright summer dress
Shoulders bare, back exposed
With another boy
Dark skin, wild eyes.
She sits on the stoop looking after us, her eyes a mystery.
Head in her hands –
She looks away.

There is no such thing as love.

— The End —