A Body

When do I belong to me?

I cut my thumb flipping through a magazine

Where beauty meets magic 

At the right dollar amount

Glitter and possibility designated for few

I wince at their smiles—

Those who laugh at my misfortune

The fantasy of romance is cut up into mannequin pieces

Am I supposed to look like that?

Easily broken and decorated?

When I had a grin full of growing teeth

I belonged to the Sun

Galivanting endlessly

But aging invites the thirst of external validation

Mostly regulated indoors

Painfully separating from the only entity that saw my carefree nature

Thus began a cycle of belonging to everyone’s needs but my own

I cried out to the Moon

Grateful for night’s beauty

But pleading for the balance of sunshine again 

I lost my way…

I used to dance alongside my imagination

Would marvel at my thoughts

But find myself buried under the intentions 

of others

Blinded by expectations

Disguised to make sure I am palatable

A break of sunlight emerges through my bedroom window

I sit in its warmth

Hugging my old friend

Knowing it will guide me

Day by day

I’m able to see myself

I see the cuts and bruises

Loving the spaces my parents’ embrace couldn’t reach

A body returning home 

Ebony Johnson

With interests in mental health, spirituality, and speculative poetry, Ebony Johnson (she/her) utilizes writing to bring awareness, create new worlds, and to heal. Her work has been published with the National Alliance for Mental Alliance and Sista Afya. When she isn't writing, Ebony can be found doing yoga, going to concerts, or traveling.

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Means of Identification

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Shame