The wind blows my dress up
Just slightly to the side.
Some look at my legs
Others try to see more
But little do they know
There is so much more of me.
Sometimes I’m the scars on my body
Aching at the touch
Or even the thought
Of being touched.
Sometimes I am the heart within me
Fragile, yet unrelenting
Pushing forward, even against odds.
Sometimes I am my hands
As they delicately slide across a surface
Searching for any cracks or breaks
Or when they reach around in darkness
To find something
Without the ability of sight
Grasping at anything
In hopes it is what I seek.
Sometimes I am my feet
Willing and wanting to run away
To get away from everything
That I think is against me.
Sometimes I stand firm in defiance
Yet at times I need someone to lean on
Someone to hear me
Sometimes being single is wonderful
Then I get lonely and want to be held.
Sometimes I want the sanity of isolation
Then people, my friends.
I am more than my dress..
I am a being