Reclamation

Sometimes I forget 

I take up space. 

I spend my time 

and words 

convincing others that I do. 

My hands, they feel

My head, it thinks

My heart, it beats

As if life exists inside of me. 

Life exists inside of me. 

Too often I forget that 

I take up space.

I know my weight, my height, 

my eyes, they’re blue. 

I know my hands, my ankles, my thighs, 

They’re mine. 

Yet somehow, they belong to you. 

This sense of contingency 

you feel entitled to impart on me

Suffocates my individuality. 

I take up space. 

Despite your insistence

That my existence 

is dependent upon your validation of me. 

All life is miraculous 

and expansive 

and free.

I refuse to be diminished to

a disposable commodity.