Hannah

Tue, 09/02/2014 - 17:28 -- zara

written February 2008

 

You say you feel vulnerable.

In my mind’s eye I see your fear:

your chest split open, red,

glistening, but your beating heart

lets us know you’re not dead

yet. In this slow demise

there is no art.

Staring into the dark,

I know your unfocused eyes

don’t see at all.

This, I think, is what you dread.

You are afraid to feel small,

to feel mocked,

to let us see what you are made of.

You say you feel naked.

You mean exposed, alone;

you think we will be shocked

— disgusted — revolted

at what we find

beneath your skin.

Of course you’re afraid to let us in.

I say this to you:

pay no mind

to the overwhelming din

of doubt and hate and cruelty

you deafen yourself with.

You say you feel naked.

I say, rejoice!

There is no shame in nudity when

you make a humble choice

to share your closest secrets,

to shout your name

as loud as you can,

to tell your people,

here I am!

I am flawed today

— and in all my flaws

I am flawless.

There is no better way

to use your voice.

 
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