Body Remembers
Dear Body,
I used to flinch when I looked at you. Not because of how you appeared, but because of what you remembered...
You betrayed me in public. You shook when I needed stillness...
I learned to hide you. To dress you in neutrality...
They told me you were dramatic. That your pain was imaginary...
I medicated you into silence. I starved you into submission...
But you weren’t the problem. You were the evidence...
You remembered what I couldn’t. You held the flashbacks...
And still—you carried me. Through every appointment...
You were never weak. You were never dramatic...
I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I’m sorry I blamed you...
You were the first to know danger. The first to feel betrayal...
Now I see you. Not as a vessel. Not as a symptom...
I will never punish you again. I will never silence you again...
You are not here to be understood. You are here to be honored.
And I love you. Fiercely. Finally. Without condition.
—Solace Helfire