my body is not

a monster.

my body is not

to be hidden under beds

or behind closet doors,

my body is not

something society

should be afraid of.

my body is its own

planet.

it has rolling hills

and dimpled craters,

arching mountains

and darkened caverns.

my body has its own

sky;

glittering in my gaze

is its version of a starry night.

learn how to love me right,

and you can scoop entire

oceans out of me.

love me wrong,

and my sky becomes

a thunderstorm.

i am my own

home.

i know no terrain

better than my skin,

can climb no mountain

better than the rise and fall

of my torso.

there is no greater

celestial being,

no stronger goddess,

than a woman who knows

her own worth,

who finds herself

to be ethereal.

perhaps that is why

you have tried so hard

to shut us away.

-c.h.

~