Sunday, June 28, 2009

POEM: not my home

When I see myself now
as I take stock in the mirror
I can still remember what I looked like
the basic structure of my form
when I was a child
a young woman
a new mother
my body changed again and again
a slow evolution
the natural process
merely witnessed
I can barely remember how it felt
only how I looked

There was a long time once when I disregarded
my form
my shape
my self
hiding, I buried her in layer upon layer
of flesh
of fat
of pain
until I was unrecognizable
but eventually I rediscovered my native essence
and peeled away those thick, heavy layers
until my body was my own again
damaged but still familiar

Now in only an afternoon's time
with the sculpting of a surgeon’s scalpel
I will no longer be the same
a new form
a new shape
a new self
will emerge from the reconstruction
and I don’t know how that will be
will I ever feel comfortable
in my own skin again
or will it always feel rearranged
like living in a house that is not my home


Chuck Dilmore said...

my insticts tell me
that you will
rise above this
healed and victorious

your physical beauty
is born of your internal beauty
abundant, eternal

you will surprise yourself!

peace and love,

Kayleigh said...

I hope your lovely words are right, Chuck...and thank you from the bottom of my heart for always cheering me on and making me feel better :)