Our Bodies Are Maps

Our veins roads

to our homes.

Our eyes windows

to our fractured souls.

Our hearts doors

to the love we keep

trapped inside.

The love we feel

like we don’t deserve.

All the pain and love

and suffering and joy

lead us down paths

never taken,

roads abandoned,

trails uprooted.

I wonder where

life will take me.

If I’ll end up at a meadow during sunrise,

light escaping over the barrier

of the hill before it

freeing itself from night’s tight grasp

or a fire burning the night away,

all of the stars

falling from the sky

as the smoke envelopes us

into a realm of uncertainty.

Each of our bodies tells a story

left unspoken.

Fingers scribble words

onto our backs

that imprint into our skin.

Our feet leave trails

of stories behind wherever we go.

Our names hold our truths

only unlock-able by trust

and empathy

and love.

Our bodies are maps.

Our veins roads

to our homes.

Our eyes windows

to our fractured souls.

Our hearts doors

to the love we keep

trapped inside.

I wish to know your story.

Memorize every road

and path

and trail.

Scribble words that

imprint into your back.

Unlock your hidden truths

as we click together

like lock and key.

Be apart of

your story

as you will be apart

of mine.

A rock for me to lean on

when I’m tired.

A wall to hoist me up

when I can’t walk.

A ventilator to help me

when I can’t breathe.

A supporting character

always there,

always welcome, and

always real.

I’m a young aspiring writer trying to figure out life. (She/her)

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I’m a young aspiring writer trying to figure out life. (She/her)

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