I, Too, Am Afraid to Own a Body, Emily
Fears that go through my head as a 21st century woman
When Emily Dickinson said “I am
afraid to own a Body—“
I felt that so deep in my bones that I
Could not feel the sadness and fear—
Only numbness—as I wept.
My brother has his wounds on the outside,
But in the inside he is becoming
I feel as though I am about to explode
With shards of my shattered insides ready to
Fly in scattered directions.
The only thing from keeping that from happening
Is a paper-thin facade
That I am ok.
I, too, am afraid to own a Body—
Because in owning one
Others will try to control it.
Most will fail, but I have had some
Take me onto them
As if they owned me.
I have felt that fear as it happened—
As a choice was made for me that
Should’ve been none but my own
Because it is my body.
Sometimes I still feel their hands on me,
Their things inside me,
And sometimes I can’t tell which one it is—
And sometimes, it’s all of them at once.
I, too, am afraid to own a Body, Emily.
I’m afraid of how others invade me and my space,
I’m afraid of the pain that I feel with this body,
I’m afraid of the lure that my breasts, my curves, my womanly parts
Create for the predators out there.
I am afraid.
So long as I am in this mortal body,
I will always be afraid.