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sum [poem]

This body went to war and came back changed
This body is scarred now and this body heaves with the weight of what it has lost and what it has gained
This body is small and bird boned but it is full of rage too
This body is shrapnel and sharp edges and you don’t get to decide who smooths them down
This body is a mirrored reflection, and oh by god, it lies
This body is a half finished thing and I cannot pretend to know what it’ll be in ten years time
This body is what is left of discarded pieces of marble
This body is an afterthought, an almost, a not quite thing
This body is, quite reluctantly, a home
This body has many chapters
This body is a breathing, living beast and beyond that I cannot say
This body is, and is, and is, and I could swallow my tongue to quell the uncertainty in my throat
And yet this body walks and talks and sings and loves
So maybe there is promise in that
Maybe it is still good.

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