The In, Is Out

I didn’t listen to music

I didn’t remember my name, or the swing of my hips.

My voice lay dormant in my throat, choking, contesting my being.

I lay next to him dulled.

My heart afraid of loss, starved of sun, but relegated to darkness.

To get too big was a sin.

To dance too much, to sing too much, to grow until I hit the ceiling and busted out the

windows was not allowed.

The outside called.
The outside begged.

And I saw suddenly my own reflection harbored the truth.

Embracing my belly, embracing my shattered mind, closing eyes that searched for

judgment and turning my gaze inward.

In, in, in.
In is out. In is out.