Trapped within these walls of (scar)
tissue and pulsing contaminated fluid, I
push myself out of this barely breathing corpse.
Repulsed by layers of obesity marinated
in rejection, disgusted by misshapen and stunted
limbs shriveled under cruel judgmental eyes, I
search rabidly for a voice disconnected from
these corroded lungs and these broken vocal
chords crushed with negativity and un-free speech.
My soul, rejecting her lot, seeking to build a more
“perfect” palace and take up residence, commands
purging – calls it growing pains because
I reach for a “self” outside of this decaying cadaver but
closer is derailed by tangents
questioning the existential possibility of this reality
to distract from the deep restrained pools of
unreleased tears that drown my soul as she
impatiently awaits her moment of escape from
this grotesque prison of flesh.
I lift my head long enough to learn that the source
of my decomposition is external; in my haste
I’ve somehow placed unwarranted blame and
punished an innocent bystander for
deep into myself, denying any ties
to this broken and listless shell, forcing the limits of
how far one can hide. Misled by the uncommon
calm of this amniotic sac-like darkness, I relax and
explore the unspoken longings of my heart.