My body is just a vessel so don't bother falling for it
I find myself falling out of it every day
The way I keep falling out of love
I didn't know souls could be so clumsy
But I'm sliding on the black ice in my brain
If I'm still there, the ice is melting and I'm filling my pockets with the puddles
The weight of the world is incredible but I float like a balloon
No one's holding on to me and I wish I could see the ground and know what gravity feels like
I hear gravity has a pull
But I've never been pulled toward something before
I just float on
I wish someone could give me a gentle tug instead of just making me their amusement
I'm not all that pretty to look at and I'm better to hold
Tie me to your wrist and I'll show you what we've missed
February 2019, This one is about dissociation and the cycles of dysmorphia I experience; with the assistance of undetected health scares, I've felt disconnected from my body throughout my life and this lack of awareness of my own body really messes with my identity. I also like to touch on how ****** it feels to be valued by many people only for this vessel that I have limited control over and not my soul :) Recently, I've recovered some autonomy and felt powerful by making decisions about piercings and tattoos and making them my own, reclaiming my body despite others opinions :) feels good.
