Friday, November 21, 2025

Dayna Leslie Hodges

My Body Is Metaphor


My body is metaphor

My form curls

Wraps its arms around

Bended knees

When my heart folds in on itself

The weight of sadness too heavy

To lift my head.

 

My head aches when pressure pounds

Stress stores itself in molecules and membranes;

When this tangle becomes knotted

Pulse throbs.

 

I cover my face

When shame tells me to mask up.

Insecurity heckles me

And I hide within my body

Though my body reveals truth

Because my body cannot lie.

 

My body is weight and flight.

 

Depression holds my feet like cement

Until my arms become wings

And lift me skyward.

Flight is freedom and

Anchored feet are isolation.


My body should never feel shackled to

Trauma and fear

But my nervous system remembers

And memories fill my pores;

The good ones sing in laughter

The bad ones hold me in staccato crash.

 

When nervous my body trembles

From interior agitation;

My body reveals my fear

 

I feel everything.

 

My body responds with physical voice

Movements and stillness.

Absorbed memories like small treasures

Expose themselves;

Some are soft and pliable and pleasant

Others are rusted and dark and pointed.

 

My skin feels whispers

Like angel kisses;

A slight tender breeze can give me goosebumps

And loud attacks freeze my voice.

Body in stand still or free fall

Flesh speaks in scars and suppleness.

 

Vulnerability makes me feel safe and afraid;

When safe I stand open

Palms up and eyes present

When afraid I fidget and look down

Slump in my stature

Yet in vulnerability I find my courage.

My body feels humble and hopeful

When I speak courageously.

 

My body gives me vision

To see beauty

To understand deeply

And experience my world.

 

My eyes invite you in

Ask you to come closer and listen

And they invite you to unfurl

As I listen to you.

 

My body is expression and voice

Touch is language akin to reading braille

And my body speaks in affection

An embrace, a touch

A soft connection expressed in caress.

 

In stillness and movement

My body breathes;

In stillness I am interior

In movement I am free

In touch with my core, my heart, my limbs.

 

My body is metaphor

In honest dialogue

There is no false facade

Only reality

And humility

And love and grace

And longing.


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