A Body of War
In the wee hours of the morning the trumpets blare as my body begins to attack.
As I clutch my center and make every attempt to slow my breath the vice grip continues to tighten.
I sit and rock with head in hands and try to hear my mother’s voice, “you’re okay honey, you’re okay.”
But am I? Will I ever be? I have waved the white flag so many times that it is tattered and gray yet this body of mine is relentless. This traitor that envelops my soul will not come in peace.
The attack begins to wane and as I hobble back I take a minute to crawl into bed with my sweet boy and touch his soft warm cheek, smell his baby breath and let his silken hair soak up my tears.
As I swallow my sobs I let his body melt into mine and this gives me the strength to fight on.
-Harmony Pyper 2012
Welcome to the healing world of poetry Poetess Harmony Pyper! Beautiful imagery, this is heartrenching and powerful, and I'm so sorry your body is not giving you the love you deserve.
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