“…I dread the time
when your mouth
begins to call me hunter.
When you call me close
to tell me
your body is not beautiful
I want to summon
the eyes and hidden mouths
of stone and light and water
to testify against you.
I want them
to surrender before you
the trembling rhyme of your face
from their deep caskets.
When you call me close
to tell me
your body is not beautiful
I want my body and my hands
to be pools
for your looking and laughing.”
From Leonard Cohen’s “Beneath My Hands.”
It’s so hard to hate yourself and to feel as if the world is one big burning blaze that will peel off your fragile skin if you go anywhere near it. It’s so much easier just to stay inside.
(Thankfully, there are people who understand and who help and who protect. And, thankfully, I have someone who inhabits and performs the words of that beautiful poem. Let’s just hope that this insanity is temporary.)
xoxo
Much love to you, dear. I wish i was there or that you were here so we could watch wonderful(ly bad) tv and eat popsicles.
xo
thinking of you as always, darling..
i miss you here in LJ-land
& hope you’re doing well in Wash. State-land!!
many <3s
lovelove. i hope you’re doing okay. thinking of you! xo
Thank you so much, dears. I really appreciate it. xoxo