Beneath My Skin
Reflections on an Unbalanced Equation
My skin is poor armor
Too pliant to defend
It bruises and it opens
All too willing to bend
But if it were more rigid
Would I be more protected?
Or would I sit unmoving
Too perfectly collected.
What doesn't bend will break
What breaks cannot be fixed
What fragile things we are
So inexpertly mixed.
But just below the surface
Of this poorly thought out case
All the things that make me
Contained inside this fragile space.
My blood, it courses through me
A river which ebbs and flows
A brain which gives me thoughts
And holds onto all it knows.
My lungs inflate and deflate
In rhythm with my needs
My womb, a tended garden
Shedding as it needs.
My stomach soft and warm
It's contents rich and full
My bones tough and worthy
Answering my pull.
My muscles ever growing
By being ripped apart
Each cell that divides and binds
Doing their intrinsic part.
All of of this galactic magic
Wrapped in threadbare leather
Yet when it is wounded
It knits itself together.
I know that we are more,
Than skin, and brains, and hearts,
We will always be much more,
Than simply the sum of our parts.
About the Creator
Paige Graffunder
Paige is a published author and a cannabis industry professional in Seattle. She is also a contributor to several local publications around the city, focused on interpersonal interactions, poetry, and social commentary.
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