Body of Banishment and Welcome

I feel worry in my head, sitting at the front of my skull

Anger in my jaw, clenched with restraint

Disappointment in my throat, trickling through my collarbone

Anxiety in my arms, buzzing around my joints

Sadness in my sternum, a boulder in my diaphragm 

Fear in my heart, a defibrillator of terror 

Embarrassment in my stomach, clawing at my ribs

Defeat in my hips, yawning down my femur

Frustration in my hamstring, tugging tugging tugging 

Restlessness in my shins, ricocheting around the tendons

Regret in my ankles, an orbiting sprain

Grief in my feet, scratching at the soil beneath

Where does my happiness lie when every part of me is so occupied?

I am trying so hard to tame these pains,

I am trying so hard to clear enough space for joy,

But it is so hard to be a body of such banishment and such welcome all at once.

Must I scrub every window before I can open it?

Reviews

[schlanks]

The movement and sensations on display here run wild. it's overstimulating in the best way--delivering the experience of exactly what the writing is meant to express. Expertly done.

[nadia dmitri]

Wow thank you very much, that was my intent so I am glad it came through!

[light and ashes]

I want to congratulate you on an amazing write, and let you know that you are a very talented writer and lady...

[nadia dmitri]

Thank you so very much :)

[light and ashes]

you are so very welcome.

[John the Baptist]

I would not know how to diagnose someone with so many dysmorphic symptoms. Some kind of anxiety disorder, I imagine. Sad sternums and frustrated hamstrings must be terribly hard to treat.

[emmajoygreen]

'Must I scrub every window before I can open it?' If I may say it's the only way to go onwards, forwards, 'yes'!

Takes courage and common sense to let go, unburden. Whilst your post is one of the finest, most tragic I've read in ages.. part of me knows how life can be at times, dark and darker, sans hope or smile.. is perhaps too hard to escape, the walls fall in on one another, the ceiling drops like that shown in an old movie.. In other words, no way out. Recovery is hell.. so is the experience .. maybe writing it out is best., There is only one way to find out, perhaps, nadia dmitri

[nadia dmitri]

You always give such beautiful and encouraging reviews, Emma. Thank you for the thoughts and the visit :)

[emmajoygreen]

If being here helps, is how it should be. :)Of it

[jacob erin-cilberto]

and some windows are still so hard to see out of....no matter how clear the glass seems.
This is a really inventive piece of poetry...your mind works in such creative ways from the back of your skull to the front.
j.

[nadia dmitri]

Thank you thank you, I really appreciate your kind words :))

[Soren]

"Must I scrub every window before I can open it?" A great line. It gives meaning to the previously mentioned graphic physical and emotional disturbances. I feel great tension in this poem. Nicely written

[nadia dmitri]

Thank you kindly, I always appreciate your visits :)