• misspuvi1808

My Body Is A Canvas 

My body is a canvas;

it has several birth marks spread across it, like stars on a dark night.

Yearning to be traced and connected to form constellations

like in the galaxy and to be stargazed at.

My body is a canvas;

it has stretch marks across my breasts, hips, and thighs.

Marking the times this skin has stretched and shrunk

through all it's phases of gain and loss.

My body is a canvas;

it is painted in red purple and blue;

the colours of bruises from new to old.

From the times I’ve fallen, accidentally bumped into something,

times of physical abuse; faded but still vivid in my memory.

Some, I don’t even know how.

My body is a canvas;

It has scars in various shapes and sizes.

From acne break outs to paintball impacts to oil splatters

to nail marks, hot pans and more;

battle scars and experiences.

My body is a canvas;

on which at times, I’ve taken the liberty to draw on;

self-inflicted ones from times of down low and frustration.

A way to escape the emotional pain backed

my momentary justifications.

My body is a canvas;

it has scars from stitches,

from the time I ran away from a bull to almost losing a toe,

these marks, still present to mark the time where my skin

was once split. Some stitches, holding my relentlessly

beating heart in place.

My body is a canvas;

it could easily show the aftermath of moments passion.

Like little strawberry coloured patches scattered across,

shying away from prying eyes and reminding its presence

every time my collar moves.

My body is a canvas

and it is as old as I am,

portraying the marks of my whole journey;

from birth to the moment I’m writing this poem.

Some faded, some getting more and more

prominent as time goes on.

My body is a canvas

and the painting is still not complete.

For I know this skin is still yet to be more

scarred and bruised. Some, I look forward to;

the scars of motherhood.

My body is a canvas;

a painting that is temporary and will turn to ashes

when my time comes. But as of now, it an unfinished painting;

one that I’m learning to love and appreciate

the art it creates every day.

My body is a canvas

and so is yours.

I look at the world and all I see are artists

and their own masterpieces.

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