Body love

THIS IS NOT MY WRITING. This poem is written by Mary Lambert and is called body love 1&2. I need to share her words, her great message

I know girls who are trying to fit into the social norm

Like squeezing into last year's prom dress.

I know girls who are low rise, black eye shadow, and binge drinking

I know girls that wonder if they're disaster and sexy enough to fit in

I know girls who are fleeing bombs from the mosques of their skin

Playing Russian roulette with death; it's never easy to accept that our bodies are fallible and flawed

But when do we draw the line?

When the knife hits the skin?

Isn't it the same thing as purging

Because we're so obsessed with death

Some women just have more guts than others

The funny thing is women like us don't shoot

We swallow pills, still wanting to be beautiful at the morgue

Still proceeding to put on make-up

Still hoping that the mortician finds us fuckable and attractive

We might as well be buried with our shoes and handbags and scarves, girls

We flirt with death every time we etch a new tally mark into our skin

I know how to split my wrists to reveal a battlefield too

But the time has come for us to reclaim our bodies

Our bodies deserve more than to be war-torn and collateral

Offering this fuckdom as a pathetic means to say,

"I only know how to exist when I am wanted."

Girls like us are hardly ever wanted, you know

We're used up and we're sad and drunk and

Perpetually waiting by the phone for someone to pick up and tell us that we did good

Well, you did good.

(I know I am because I said, "I am."

My body is home)

Try this

Take your hands over your bumpy love body naked

And remember the first time you touched someone

With the sole purpose of learning all of them

Touched them because the light was pretty on them

And the dust in the sunlight danced the way your heart did

Touch yourself with a purpose

Your body is the most beautiful royal

Fathers and uncles are not claiming your knife anymore

Are not your razor, no

Put the sharpness back

Lay your hands flat and feel the surface of scarred skin

I once touched a tree with charred limbs

The stump was still breathing

But the tops were just ashy remains

I wonder what it's like to come back from that because

Because sometimes I feel forest fires erupting from my wrists

And the smoke signals sent out are the most beautiful things I've ever seen

Love your body the way your mother loved your baby feet

And brother arm wrapping shoulders, and remember

This is important

You are worth more than who you f**k

You are worth more than a waistline

You are worth more than beer bottles displayed like drunken artifacts.

You are worth more than any naked body could proclaim in the shadows,

More than a man's whim or your father's mistake

You are no less valuable as a size 16 than a size 4

You are no less valuable as a 32a than a 36c

Your sexiness is defined by concentric circles within your wood

It is wisdom

You are a goddamn tree stump with leaves sprouting out

Reborn

Reviews

[...]

This is great a poem indeed . Speaking very straight about issues of young girls. Through the bitter truth , you can really feel true your self. Very powerful and strong writing. Her writing is little simulate to writing of Kathy Acker. She wrote several books about women body and painful experience from her life. Very good thing you posted here. We need more poems what speak about issues not just sweet sonnets .

[JustNonsenseAndSugar]

I found this poem to be one of my favorites. She sings and speaks in such a way that I adore. I have been posting this everywhere I can.

[...]

Great its really good piece. Maybe one day you can write something like this.

[JustNonsenseAndSugar]

i hope. I look to Mary lambert for hope and love. I love her music and her work has inspired me so much. It means alot to me that you would say that.

[...]

Yes inspiration from other people can help us to develop our own expression and creativity.