After a long while
the old habits turn
brittle and break
apart. The fear,
its soft, aged tendrils
slide off your bones
and you open.
You see skin sliding off the biggest lie.
That you,
impossibly, wondrously,
perfectly formed,
were not enough.
And you ate that lie,
slept with it, draped it around your eyes,
pulled apart your chest, hung it on your ribs to
feel it feed on your heart at night.
It took a long time
to wipe your bones clean
and live in your skin.
Sometimes, still confused,
you slip between surprise and relief,
you finally remember everything that
is love,
every good thing you are made of.
Anki Sinha
Walk With Me 