no returns










no returns goose stories
  299
  •  
  3
  •   31 comments
Share

in
in 17/"love me, 'cause you're just a clone"
Autoplay OFF   •   2 months ago
A spoken word poem and the one I can see myself performing most in the future. About how wonderful human bodies are and how long it takes us to love them. Thank you <3

no returns

When I say my mother had an easy birth,

I mean I think I was born backwards.

It's not a great conversation starter,

It's not a great conversation starter, I know,

but neither is seven pounds of limbs and bones,

but neither is seven pounds of limbs and bones, skin and gumless,

bursting into this world like an unwanted guest at the party,

it's not a great conversation starter,

it's not a great conversation starter, I know.

When I say I wear my body,

When I say I wear my body, I mean I wear it like a shirt

gifted to me by an aunt whose name doesn't seem to stick,

I thank her kindly and ask for the receipt,

I thank her kindly and ask for the receipt, much to the horror of the guests,

and that shirt never sees the light of day again.

There was no smile that seemed natural,

There was no smile that seemed natural, no part of me I was ever willing to share.

When I say I haven't learned to wear my body,

I mean my arms stick out like a goose among ducks,

I mean my arms stick out like a goose among ducks, I mean feathers don't hide all the extra skin,

I mean I don't have thighs,

I mean I don't have thighs, there's only thunder

and the shame of 6am runs where the only sound through the whole park,

still silent in a lullaby,

still silent in a lullaby, is my feet

still silent in a lullaby, is my feet that land heavy without thought.

I guess what I am saying is that

I guess what I am saying is that I am a gift

I guess what I am saying is that I am a gift I once

I guess what I am saying is that I am a gift I once would have liked to return.

Once,

Once, I dreamt of emptying myself of all this pity,

all these statues I made unmoving in all this grief.

If I were to give away a part of my body,

If I were to give away a part of my body, I'd choose my wrists,

If I were to give away a part of my body, I'd choose my wrists, an elbow,

the right pinkie still crooked from basketball games.

I'd give you all the parts of me that take years and years to love.

The awkward parts,

The awkward parts, the ones that if I were to lose,

it'd be like walking under an umbrella,

it'd be like walking under an umbrella, when your image became the rain,

it'd be like walking under an umbrella, when your image became the rain, when you empty the sun of its loneliness.

I once was told that our blood has the same amount of salt in it as the ocean does.

Maybe that is why the parts of me that took longer to love

are landmarks I can trace my way back to,

backwards and eyes closed because no matter where I land,

how much sea I wade through

how much sea I wade through until my bones become floating organs,

I will find my way to loving this gift,

I will find my way to loving this gift, no returns.

(i.n)

Stories We Think You'll Love 💕

Get The App

App Store
COMMENTS (31)
SHOUTOUTS (3)