No Body.

No Body.
Not today.
None that I want, anyway.
No connection
No stash of self-love
No self-compassion.
Just fear
Blind fear
The kind that makes you quake.

Fears are feelings.
Feelings aren’t facts.
That’s what they say.
I don’t subscribe to that.
Not in this state
Not in this tsunami
Not in this volcanic eruption
of fear.

I’m being encouraged to let go
of using intellect
of analyzing
of my brain.
I’m being encouraged to let in
other modes of expression.

Not now.
Not with the triggering that’s
erupted from its normal slow
smolder into a hot flow
of lava.
my equilibrium.

No Body.
Not today.
Just me
The small me
The disquieted me.
The one for whom a body
means pain and
fear and

No Body.
Not today.
Maybe tomorrow.
We’ll see.

About armsakimbobook

I'm a mother, a lawyer, a feminist, a writer, a potter, and an inveterate and unapologetic New Yorker. My book, Arms Akimbo: A Journey of Healing, tells of my journey of healing over a number of years, learning to live a full life after I was molested by my father at a very young age. I live in Maynard, MA, with my wife and and our two moose-cats, Samson and Hercules. My daughter used to live with me part-time, but she's all grown up now and in her junior year of college, which I can't quite fathom, since she was born about five minutes ago...
This entry was posted in Poems, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to No Body.

  1. Tricia Lynn says:

    Absolutely beautiful. This moved me. Well done.


  2. Thank you so much, Tricia Lynn. I am moved by your comment.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s