My Body: A Poem

My body is my home.

And it is mine alone.

It is a glorious piece of art

Designed for me and only me.

It can dance

and run

And sing

And hug

And love

And weep

And laugh

And fight

If I choose to use it that way.

My body is mine to care for

Mine to feed

with all of the exquisite

Flavors of the world

Mine to cover in citrousy lotion

And shave until my skin

is smooth as butter

Mine to decorate with tattoos

And jewelry

Mine to spritz with cologne

And wash with lavender soap

Mine to exercise

Until my arms and stomach match

The strength of my soul.

My body is not for you

To grope or to ogle

To bite or to bruise

To catcall or use.

To judge or to criticize

To tell how to dress

To possessively caress.

My standards will be

Held as high as my head.

We are no longer victims

We are survivors

We thrive.

We band together and cry

When we are not believed.

We are dragons when we’re angry.

And we will be victorious

And glorious.

My body is radiant

With power and beauty

It is small but strong

And will not go along

With your whims

Anymore.