Response 9

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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.

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