I cannot comprehend
what to do with this body.
Everyone knows and seems to blend,
everybody but me, it seems.
Thus, I claim the form of
a shadow, a mirror—
an amalgamation of everything, just to be clearer.
Shifting, modifying, with people, places.
So I smile less, even after getting braces.
Bodies aren't just bodies,
from what I have understood.
They are meanings, understandings—
an identity, something I do not hold or could.
This fig tree keeps rotting,
but I remain indecisive, still fighting.
My body creates its own identity,
one without my permission or propensity—
plumpy and chubby, hunched and rotund.
I do not like it—
the identity that my body built,
one without my permission.
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138,733 Literary Works • 672,262 Reviews
Heyy, Eucalyptusjoos here!
I've found that poem written in the dead of night are usually the best ones, so here we go!
"I cannot comprehend
what to do with this body."
I don't think body dysphoria can entirely encapsulate this sentence. It's a more rational declaration, that you don't know what to do anymore. Everyone is comfortable in their own skin, can move, talk, laugh and live comfortably, but not the narrator. To them, their body feels like a dreamscape. A suit they've put on to fit in but they're bound inside it.
Individuality is fleeting. A person is an amalgamation of the people they meet and the experiences they have. Anyway, it's not like the narrator feels they have any originality, an opinion that diversifies themself from the background.
They get so used to blending in that they don't realize their image is about to be wiped entirely.
"So I smile less, even after getting braces." I like this line because it is THE insecurity experience. You get so used to hiding parts of yourself that it feels now they've become allergic to the light.
"Bodies aren't just bodies,
from what I have understood.
They are meanings, understandings—
an identity, something I do not hold or could."
You are alone right in the middle of a crowd. You see everything but aren't seen yourself. You are a dismal declaration existence. Like a shimmer of light can mask you soul. Having the tools does not make you a master. You have lungs that breathe, a heart that breaths, and mind that thinks but your eyes are windows to nothing.
"This fig tree keeps rotting,
but I remain indecisive, still fighting."
I didn't really understand this part, perhaps the fig tree could be an allusion to something but I suggest specifying it a little more for the reader's clarity.
"My body creates its own identity,
one without my permission or propensity—
plumpy and chubby, hunched and rotund.
I do not like it—
the identity that my body built,
one without my permission."
This really is a perfect example of an out-of-body experience, like dissociation combined with dysphoria.
You are not even in control of yourself, much less what happens to you. You morph into a creature you cannot recognize or reconcile yourself with, but then again, you feel 'yourself' eroding too.
"Thus, I claim the form of
a shadow, a mirror—
an amalgamation of everything, just to be clearer.
Shifting, modifying, with people, places.
So I smile less, even after getting braces."
My favorite part was this. In our haste to fit in, our identity is lost too.
I like this poem a lot. Good job!
Thankyou so muchhh!! The fig tree analogy is a reference to the bell jar by sylvia plath
OH MY GOD i thought about that but i was like it may be too far off ughh
Omggg
Hello,
I have always tried writing a poem before, such as this one, trying to capture the feeling of being an outsider in your own body, and I feel as though you captured this perfectly
Your line: "My body creates its own identity, one without my permission," really stood out to me. I feel like that tells a lot with just those words. Honestly, you did an amazing job.
Thankyou!
Hey! I love this poem for starters. I like the idea of identity and pressures of society that are present in the message. A specific part I enjoyed was "I remain indecisive, still fighting. My body creates its own identity," and I love the message it portrays with internal and external views on oneself. The only thing I have to comment on is that the part about braces seems random, it doesn't fit in the flow of the rest of the poem in my opinion. It is a beautiful piece, and you should be proud! Thank you for sharing this with everyone!
Thankyou so much!
Hi darling!
I am dearly lucky to have stumbled upon your piece of writing. This is a lovely poem, and something that really connected with me on a more personal level. It is deeply difficult to find true content and solace in your appearance, especially with the growing influence of social media.
Some sentences that I really liked here were:
"My body creates its own identity,
one without my permission or propensity—"
This is a beautiful and deeply intimate way of words, that really spoke to me most.
It was this that stood out to be too:
"This fig tree keeps rotting,
but I remain indecisive, still fighting."
How beautifully poetic and somber! I have no notes for you my friend. I just came to tell you how lovely your poem was. It's always those random times of the night where our minds open up most!
I can't wait to see what you come up with next!
Best wishes! Keep writing,
Lizzy
Thankyou so much!