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A Portrait of My Body

My tongue was tied before the age of five, and I’m still learning how to speak my truth. I have weathered veins, unable to point me home, because how can you find something you’ve never had? My knees are raw, carpet burned from all the times I fell. The times I felt weak, prayed that my brain would release the chemicals capable of counteracting the poison flowing through my system called “I am worthless.” My ribs are a rusted cage, keeping my phoenix heart safe because it’s risen from the ashes too many times. My muscles are tired from holding me together through the days that I felt like nothing more than a puddle other people walk through. I opened up my veins because blood comes from the heart and the heart is love, so I thought turning my blue rivers red would let me see the way to love. I raised myself up with a rope, thinking there’s no way Depression could reach me if gravity couldn’t keep me down. I made these desperate decisions because no matter how hard I looked, I couldn’t find a page in the book of me that read “you are loved.” But I had friends who surrounded and supported me, until the day that I realized “you are loved” is written across the top of every page. So if you are like me and sometimes you feel like your last option, your only option is to try to stop breathing, Open your book and please, please read because you are loved because you are you

written by Freya | @freyathepoet




Lotus photographed by Mckenna by the river with Freya.


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