sometimesihatemycat

My skin it does not want me in it
My flesh now rejects me outright
My bones they are being rebellious
My guts are refusing the grind
My brain is parading the reasons to care
My life-force compels me to fight
My story seems written regardless of choice
My breath; she pauses these things with her sigh

-a.r.

Photography: To Ride on the Curled Clouds By Nicola Taylor

~ by April on June 6, 2015.

Posted in Body, Identity, Meditation, Poetry
Tags: Aging, Anatta, Anicca, Body, Bones, Breath, Change, confidence, Dukkha, Flesh, Impasse, Impermanence, Judgment, meditation, No-self, Pause, poetry, Self, Self criticism, Self Image, Skin