Poetry response to Quintanales’ “Depression”
The past haunts me too
And all the injustices I have faced within myself
The hatred I used too, and sometimes still feel towards my body
This vessel that confirms my entire being
Everything I ever was and am, settled down within me
Why is it so hard to love myself?
Why is it a daily inconvenience?
Everyday I try to start anew
But what for?
What about the memories, talents, love within my body?
I am trying, slowly and willingly
To accept this vessel I call my body
To love it as much as I love others
I want to repair my beautiful skin
And nourish it, adore it
I have one life to live
My body has been my everything
My war tank, my demise, my whole presence
So let me work on myself
And learn to protect and nurture my body
Because it’s my own and will always be mine.