War

My body is at war with me—
Not violently,
But lovingly.
It fights a battle
With my mind, terribly,
Where my words and it
Are at conflict.
I mother my grief
And disputes within me;
I carry it carelessly.

How can I hate a body
That only lives, even when I curse it?

The heart that beats
When he couldn’t hold it;
The mind that evaluates
What is best for me;
Or the body that functions
Restlessly—
I must embody it
Gently.