The Pain of Becoming

you uprooted my skin with your hand
dug painful trenches across my back
as if this was your land, your space to mark
as if the skin that encases my own organs belongs to you
the next day I looked at my reflection
I saw that you had destroyed ecosystems
your teeth ripped the tundra in my neck
hands bruised the mantle
I was hurting
you thought I was small.
you never saw me.
you never saw my legs, unshaven, windswept conifers like the taiga
the skin that protects me from the rain like tree bark
the mobile branches that emerge from our torsos to swallow the sunlight
and my upright feet, stretching me
towards the stars
body is world
I was meant to be held in the arms of oceans
I will never be small enough to fit inside your hands.

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