We live in the present through connection and pathways of our bodies.
The sustainability it seeks and provides simultaneously equal magical miracles: us, and me.
Our bodies as an earth, the roots spreading below the ground, growing into strong Sequoias listening.
Our bodies are water flowing, splashing love over walls and edges created without to help our flow. Our bodies are one, we are one, and yet one in our own bodies. The earth is our mother.
My body holding my head up, view ahead, surpassing struggles, hugging peaceful flowers of rolling hills and little critters the scatter about, the winds carry new adventures, and our bodies feel the air. Our bodies and my body.
My body is aging towards the dead.
Because we all die, we exit to another world.
So dwell on today. So be in today. Jump for today. Play. Pray and sway safely.
My body.
I am present, breathing, my veins pumping blood, my neurotransmitters zapping, resting and guiding me through many emotional spots of expression, suppression, and identification and providing me with abilities that can encompass possibilities, silence, and space. My body, our body motions us in all ways: spiritually, mentally, and physically.
the galaxy of being alive – the sun, the stars, the ocean blue, the vastness of land, open to us as we open to it.
Saunter and spread out and over through these pathways in generosity.

Look in the mirror, what do I see? I horrid reflection of a person not free.
Free to feel sexy, free to feel safe, free to be happy, free to be me.
How did I get here? This person isn’t me, the reflection in the mirror made myself an absentee.
Eat till I’m full, usually even more. Fill the void with food until I’m sick to my core.
What do people think? do they laugh at me? do they whisper to each-other “look at that fatty.”
Go to bed, wake up, get dressed & ready. self-Check in the mirror, another reflection of misery.

Can I write something for future me ? Because I know he’s be so proud of what current me, is currently doing.

Undoing 10 years of an identity, that was never meant for me.

Preparing the path to intersect with him, and finding healthy ways to cope mentally

Especially, since they did him kind of dirty

It’s never to late to start over.
Even if your thirty

It may seem a little scary
No, it’s terrifying

a leech in my mind slowly sapping away at times-
that should be spent living…
Sorry I gotta focus on surviving,

But first, I need to get out of bed. I’ve been trying to convince every piece of me to talk again,
no part of me ever grieved the fact that I had to learn how to walk again

Extremely well taken care of body, sold my soul for employment,
22 years old a broken vertebrae on deployment?

Came back to the states and didn’t know that I was in for the change of my life,
for the next four months, I was forboding going under the knife.

“But I’m 22, I’m in incredible shape,”

“I’m sure you are son, but you see this x ray? This is a clear break”

“You made a mistake, it was just some discomfort , I only felt a pinch”

Dr said, “I can tell you’re upset I’m gonna give you a bit. “

There I sat, main character to my own horror movie, blood became curdling

The words escaped my lips like death row inmates –
“I’m getting surgery”

There I lay, a husk of my former self ,

my right thumb begging the vicodin to drip faster, no wonder this is controlled.
I cried as soon as the nurse left, I’m 22 years old.

Could barley take care of my self ,
I wouldn’t have ate if my boy chav never came,
I felt so embarrassed to use a walker, only a little lesser with a cane.

But day by day , I did my best to get stronger , those slow painful walks would ease and become longer.

I was really worried that I’d never be able to swing a bat again,
To strengthen my back ,
I first needed to strengthen my glutes, hips, and abdomen .

Everyday after work, I’d do a light jog, yoga, then mobility,
trying to stifle the disdain of my depleted ability,

Before I was poetic, I found solace in athletics,
55 yard throws, home runs over 350, 4.7 forty, benching 250,
33 inch vert…
all that stuff went away when I got hurt.

I gained a bunch of weight lost all my range of motion ,
I was willing to do black magick take an elixir or a potion.

But, one day by the ocean,

Feet in the sand, and my head in my hands, I realized …
I had to love my body because for everything it went through,
it still lets me stand.
Now as a man,

I realize I’ll never be in the same shape I was when I was 21,

don’t need to be a good athlete anymore, just do my job and play with my son.

My dear body,

You are my home, my wife, my life.

The mistress that sleeps in me too,
Will someday go with all her plights.

Her words of insanity, and her thoughts
that hate on you, my home, my wife, my life

Will come and go till I find it in me to no longer need
That mistress that sleeps

She is cunning and evil

Telling me my body is a beautiful as a crack house
Telling me I am not womanly enough because of my size
Telling me I do not deserve to eat
Telling me to punch myself
She is cunning and evil

She is the mistress that sleeps so I can be the wife that won’t second guess what she says

~

My dear bones
They have caused me no trouble

My eyes
They are mine

My skin
Soft Soft Soft they say

My nose
Perfect
Never Changed
Always Stayed With Me

My scars
Protect the cells that could have killed me

My back
I was embarrassed of you
Now I flex you in the mirror

~

My dear body––with all it’s dots and marks and lines and wrinkles and hair––you have stayed with me and hung on even when I hit you or made you bleed or made you bruise

You heal me even when I do not want you too

My dear brain is trying every damn day to erase the bad thoughts and race to the good ones; my damn brain deserves an award; my damn body deserves an award

Dear body: you are more of a friend to me, than I have been to you. Thank you.