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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: we are not our bodiesdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: lebeauvide
    ASL Info:    24/F
    Elite Ratio:    2.29 - 75/295/165
    Words: 525
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 731
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 3079



    Description:
       


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotswe are not our bodiesdots
    -------------------------------------------


    I was not built for running
    My body is too heavy, too soft
    Not made for traveling distance
    Strongest in short bursts and hard fights
    My greatest strength is in claws and hair pulling
    I fight dirty
    My body was made for back alley scraps and roller rinks
    Fists pounding against pavement in a way my feet never could
    Scraping my hands bloody to mask the raw red ache I feel on the inside
    but we are not our bodies

    We are not defined by this prison made flesh
    sinew and muscle are not our handcuffs
    We are more than this
    We are more than fascia
    We can be a thousand things

    I was not built for running
    My feet are cracked and bleeding
    Nails torn clean out of their beds, like children running from a house fire
    But I am not built to run
    I am not built
    for running no I'm not made
    Not made to move faster than a walk
    You know
    Walking
    It's running in slow motion

    And even in slow motion we can see everything
    It's the sound of the tape running backwards
    Kindness is rewinding, kindness is reliving memory
    but memory is inherently kind
    It is a double-edged razor that you carry in your mouth
    It is a double-edged
    It's double
    And the edges are sharp
    It'll cut you into pieces just by looking in your direction

    I was not made for running
    I cannot read a compass
    I have trouble looking at maps because all the lines look the same
    They are all the same color and they are all caught in the blaze
    Every line on the paper converges in the corners in the creases
    They all lead back to house fires
    Houses
    built already on a foundation of ashes
    we are not trees
    We are not the earth
    Our houses are made with our own hands, hewn from stone
    but we did not make them
    We were the tools and they built themselves
    We were just here to cut the ribbons

    But you know, me and houses have something in common
    We are not made for running
    We are built to be soft and strong
    Built to be lived in
    Built to house others and keep others safe within our walls
    but those walls are built too high
    we wall ourselves in in our houses and our bodies
    but we are more than this
    we are more than our bodies

    I was not built for running but I still carry a spark
    I am the cause of the electrical fire within you
    I want to light you up like the Fourth of July and I want to set your nerves ablaze
    Burn you out like a road flare, fading away into the dark
    Streaking across the sky like a meteor only to crash into the mountain, into the side of the house
    We will all die on impact but we will burn twice as bright for all that we have lost
    I was not built for running
    but I was built to burn




    Submitted on 2016-07-28 22:44:29     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      The piece reflects surprisingly deliberate structure given its highly emotional and somewhat haphazard tone. I found myself stuck trying to see where you were going with it, which is to say that I knew you *were* going somewhere with it from early on.

    When I did reach the end, I felt satisfied with the concise closing line, but a little bit vacant on message. You were built to burn, is the clear conclusion. But the concept of burning and fire is only approached in the final verse. Confined to the context of that verse, it means you were built to have a powerful and fiery impact on another person. My conjecture is that the rest of the piece is building up a sense of your inability to do so. Which means the real theme is that despite the limitations to which you were born, you are still capable, and perhaps even *more* capable than you would otherwise be, of having a profound impact on someone's life. It's part plea, part complaint, part declaration of indifference.

    Was that the intent?
    | Posted on 2016-08-21 00:00:00 | by Ontlogicalamity | [ Reply to This ]


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