My body is not but is

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 02, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 02, 2018




My arms are porcelain, covered with tiny dark spots, kisses from above, Papa showing he loves them dearly.

They are meant to be caressed and gently cradled in a soft embrace, protected from any other marks that could come upon them.

My arms are not meant to be forced and are not meant to be grabbed with anger or harmed when simply changing the melody in a car ride home. 

My ears are small, they have stones and silver peaking out of them smiling for others to see. 

My ears are meant to hear soft whispers, sweet compliments like honey bathing me in a soft heat.

They are not meant to be told they are less than, they are not meant to be shattered by someone who doesnt deserve to be heard by these ears. 

My eyes are the color of the sea, sometimes they are stormy and other times beaming with sunshine. 

My eyes are meant to be stared into with an undeniable love, leaving my cheeks to start a mild fire, creeping on my face as a smile spreads.

They are not meant to be bore into with what was a gentle forest, now a twisted thorn bush, burning my eyes until hot sea water spills and quenches the mild fire you use to give me. 

My body is love, it is a gift. My body is a garden that keeps growing season after season despite the frost or heat. 

My body deserves to be watered and cared for, it deserves to be placed in rich soil to lovingly aid me in growth. 

It will not be contained, it will not be trampled. 

The being who has planted me would want me cared for, to flourish in any weather, not forgotten and overgrown.

My body is a garden, it is not concrete that can be cracked, it will not be hardened in place. 

It is fluent and bends in the wind, it is beautiful and provides its caretaker with any plant they need just as long as it is treated properly. 

My body is a promise:

Until I find the right gardener, I will turn my heart from the clenched bud you left 

into a gentle blooming flower.

© Copyright 2018 Hannah Drake. All rights reserved.