The flesh I live in—my name, routines, repulsions, and emotions.
The flesh I am sometimes comfortable in, holding every scar I carry from the pain.
Memories so deep, what I call my true home, material I never chose.
The flesh I live in, holding beauty at all times.
The flesh I hesitate to part with when the time comes.
The flesh we neglect, only dreaming beyond our means.
The flesh I sometimes feel trapped in, seeing my mistakes staring back at me.
The flesh I feel proud of, when I want everyone to see.
The flesh I was given, and have lived in, until it’s time to part ways.
