poetry

I’m One Of Them. {poetry}

Please, sir
tell me about my body.

Talk to me about
all the things you know
better than I do.

Make me feel ashamed
make me want to hide and protect
make me want to fade and shrink.

Jostle me

Handle me

Shake your finger at my form

Grab for me on the street.

Turn me into your landfill,
Fill me with your anger
Spray me with your hatred
Drown me in your disdain and disgust.

Hold nothing back;
In fact, I suspect I may already know how this will go.

Am I right?

When you see the extra flesh of my thighs
and the softness of my stomach,
Will you tell me that I’m wrong?

This steep valley of my low back,
Does it make you want to call me a bitch?

And if I part my lips and blink my eyes real slow,
Do you say I’m a slut?

Tell me,
What of the soft textured wetness of my tongue?
And the glistening pink insides of my mouth?

Do these things so enrage you
That you wish to slit the corners of my lips

Till I cannot speak?

The thought of my dripping cherry juice,
Does it make you want to explode?

When I walk
and move
to the sounds of jazz in my own head
How will you diminish me? Will you tell others that I’m crazy?

Do It All

Take your time,
Make sure you finish.

And then stand across from me — yes, just there — and watch
as I look into your eyes
and receive into my arms

a beautiful man
who sings praise at the church of my curves.

Stay, won’t you?

Hold eye contact, if you can bear it.

Look on,
impotent and perplexed,
as I open my legs
to welcome one who caresses instead of cuts,
suckles instead of stabs.

Observe
as he cradles the gentle arch of my foot
and takes a toe into his mouth.

Because when you bullied me,
trod on me,
and despised me,
What you forgot is this:

There are some who understand the way I am
as a gift and not a threat.

And I am one of them.

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Hannah Harris
Hannah Harris grew up in the pure mountain air of Lake Tahoe, NV. She is now a Yoga teacher and writer in San Francisco. She believes the the single best thing any of us can do for the rest of creation is find the time to truly know and then madly love ourselves. Find her on Instagram and Facebook, or read more of her thoughts at Wayfaring Gypsy.
Hannah Harris