Poem for the Body

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It is not a sign of weakness to hold in the weight of rock that is the mine collapsing inside your throat. Your heart is jumping out of its rib-shaped cave more often than not. The consequence of freedom isn't always pretty. Your body is a protest, a body of water, gaining momentum. Your body is
not mine: make the world 
uphold this.
Ankles toes and belly button
knees and elbows
shoulder blades
and everything else
in stock, they are not allowed
to take. You keep a tight inventory,
so next time people come around telling you about your body, don't hold back. Your body is evidence. Hold it up against the light until they are obligated to shut up.