I’m a women, this means no matter what my shape or size, I’ll never be happy.
My body is a portrait of scars stretch marks and flabby bits, all of which have had or will have a purpose in my life. Some stay others fade and go but each one has a story.
I’ve a big arse for sitting on when making the long trips to work, college, family, friends and the lovers of my life. It says goodbye to people I’ve walked away from and says come on to people who want to follow.
I’ve big legs, strong to help me walk in this the human race; help pull this body when weak through the pain of life. To run for the things worth working for and to chase down anything I need.
My love handles are not where I am grabbed but where men place his hands when his arms wrap around me. The part I struggle to get jeans over but I know they will never leave me.
My arms are not strong like many mans but they help me carry anything that I worry about, and carrying the loves of my loins. To rock them asleep when I’m the only thing they want. To rap around the neck of the men I will love while I stroke their hair and steer in their eyes.
My stomach maybe slim or chubby either way one day like most women it may hold a life it is where the father of my young will rub when the little life inside kicks. Where this machine sorts out the good from the bad and where most of my fat stores seem to linger.
My breasts are loved by men, small or large they are just fat stores that help me feed my young with the milk of life. Small large perky or falling they are a dominant feature all to show that my body works for the ones I love. They make a great pillow for men and babes alike.
My head is where lovers will kiss, like my parents did when I was little. It holds my hair which I will never like the colour wave curl or straightness of; I will forever change it and still dislike it. Where my brain is deep inside, the circuit board that runs this well oiled tank. It stores everything and sorts them into tidy piles. Its what tells me to think when my heart tries to take over.
My face may carry wrinkles from laughing smiling and frowning the crow’s feet half flooding from tears my eyes will and have already cried. These eyes which will look into the world, finding eyes of lovers and hopefully at first sight spotting the man of my life. These eyes will take in children if I shall have them of mine for the first time.
These ears will hear music, emotions played in words they will hear I’m sorry and I love you more than any other words, they will hear the cries of the one’s I love as well as their laughter.
This nose will smell the pollen of flowers, the musky smell of men who have left and the smell of bread and coffee fresh made reminding me of the strong women in my life.
This mouth will speak with freedom, smile with blissful stupid happiness will laugh at the most unappealing jokes and of course will kiss enough lovers lips to last a life time, these lips have been bitten and licked, frozen and burnt so many time I cannot state a number.
Most important of all lies inside my chest behind my breasts between my lungs. My heart pumps blood the oil to fuel this body to every organ inside of me. It beats in slow motion when i’m trying to be calm and beats fast when nervous. It has skipped beats when i’ve listened to it and when i’ve fallen for men. It has fought with my head for as long as i can remember. I’ve given it up on a serving tray to guys who each have a small piece making this big heart smaller but not less capable while inside.
And one day the love i’v yet to clearly find will mend and make it bigger then ever.
Yes I may not love this my simple yet strong willed body but this is my temple. My machine.... the company that works as hard as it can on what resources I’ve put in it and at times I may want to hit shut down but this my temple I will pray from and keep on breathing, pumping blood to every part no matter how much I hate it as no matter what each part of me holds a million key memories that someday will live on when this temple is crumbled faded and even gone.
This is my body, and while I claim I hate it.
I will forever love its flaws.
Forever remember how amazing each part has been, like each soldier fighting a war.
Each part of me, no matter how broken bruised or scars works on.
This temple will always crumble with time but this my body will remain strong until finally the machine shuts itself down and only then will I be gone... leaving fond memories of me and my body to live on.
I found this poem, and re reading it remember how i felt writing it. I'd been hurt by so many people and hadnt got a boyfriend (thankfully iv the best man now who i love with my growing heart!) and my family (although now i adore) and i werent seeing eye to eye at this time but i of course came to a point where i was deciding if i should give up or go on and i decided that no matter how beaten i was i was the only one who could demolish this temple that I am. This is a favourite of mine.