sinful // persephone

i’ve spent a lifetime, nearly 3 decades
living in your projection that this body is s i n f u l
that exposing any part of it is the devil’s work
that somehow your lust, your insecurity
your lack of self control, is my fault

so many years, wasted on fears, that somehow i would be your undoing

i’m told that i am desirable,
that’s why I must cover up [even if others don’t have to]
because the shape of this flesh sack causes ‘good men’ to stumble

wandering eyes,
faltering loyalties,
overt destruction of polite society

i didn’t want to make her feel like less, so I covered up more
beauty was a curse that i gave up years trying to reverse

for so long, i wanted to make myself ugly
so that she wouldn’t feel threatened, so that he wouldn’t feel entitled
so that they would stop hating me, for something i don’t understand

for too long, i believed the lies,
accepted the projections of fear, insecurity, and rage
that this body seems to provoke

I’ve always been fascinated by the variety of bodies in the world
i find them curious + beautiful

i’ve never been one of those people who didn’t like my own
i’ve watched her change, restructure, grow + shrink
i feel her shivers, her hunger, her nervous drops of sweat tickling the backs of my arms

i stopped shaving months ago because i thought it might help me
to learn to cover up
maybe it would even keep me “modest”
which I’m told—is a very good thing to be

but what if, i am not a “good” thing?
what if i feel most alive when i’m
naked + fuzzy all over + dipping into liquid bodies under open skies?

“modesty is everything to me” i say to him
as i strip down + dive in
my soft skin transforming to goose flesh, a smile splits my face

it feels impossible now, to care about your misguided, puritanical, judgements

if exposing this body, my body—this sack of bones that i call home
is all it takes to send me to Hell
then call me Persephone because i’m ready to rule the underworld
at least there i will be free
of your projections on me