Would you still love me if I was a worm?

I don't think you could recognize me at all

if I came to you (so pink and small)

It's a change too profound.

I would not blame you for this—

even if you fell for my mind

(rather than a body)

the resemblance anyone would miss

You probably Wait for me to return home

instead of checking for worms at your door.

But if I showed up

still in shock after what happened

so small and new born;

if I said, “Hello. I didn't know

where else to go,”

stranger that I've become

in this new tiny shape...

“Nobody recognises me

and I can't go home;”

I guess what I'm asking is,

if I said, “Help me, please,”

Would you pick me up gently

and place me to the grass and dirt

where I can thrive

or feed me to the nearest bird?

eric lodwick, 2008

drew over something i wrote for a class and liked :] sorry the cars are lowkey ugly, its because I fucking hate cars and cant be bothered to learn what they look like beyond ominous hunks of metal

edit: transcript of the poem by itself under the cut

Katie Maria / Katherine Fabrizio A Poem From the Adult Daughter to the Narcissistic Mother: Not Your Fault, Not Mine, Just Is / pinterest / Annie Ernaux / Christina Bothwell Incessant Dreamer (2022) / pinterest / pinterest / pinterest

mother, you were right- i do damage. for the sake of all the damage that’s been done to me.

Guy who has wandered through the halls and corridors of your body not with any special kind of love but with the untold intimacy of a contractor assessing the damages and potentials voice: right, so the main issue here is that the body is currently a temple, okay, and what we want is for it to be a home, cause temples are pretty and all and occasionally nice to be in if you're into that sort of thing but very few people would actually want to live in one. So what we're gonna do first is you're gonna take a look at what's here, the carrying walls and windows and all that, and you're going to come up with something you'd actually like to be alive inside of, and it's going to be a lot of work and it's going to feel strange and stupid and embarrassing but you're still gonna do it, because otherwise this construction site is fucked. And maybe what you want to live in is a skatepark or an anime-themed cat cafe or an esoteric library that has a dildo section for some reason, so it might feel like it's a downgrade from a temple, but it's actually the opposite cause the main customer for a body is you and the main customer for a temple are templegoers and maybe higher powers of some kind, - i wouldn't know about those, they never hired me, - not the temple itself, which is what you are, right, cause the body/mind/soul separation doesn't actually do anything, so what you're gonna do is look at the current layout and dig out whatever hope and ability to want you have and come up with a blueprint, and then my boys can actually get to work. Oh, and you have got to change the windows, it's drafty as fuck in here.

@funnier-as-a-system

I really like the intention of this post, but I struggle with the actual comparison. There’s a lot more you can do to change a building than you can with your body. You can raze a building to the ground and rebuild it however you like. Not so with bodies. Yes, there are some significant things you can do (especially if you’re looking to affirm your gender) but so much about our bodies can’t be changed - just ask folks who are disabled or chronically ill.

Instead of doing amazing renovations and getting that dildo bookstore of our dreams, many of us have to learn how to make a home in a building with shitty pipes, a baffling layout, windows that can’t actually be replaced, and the jankiest exterior in the neighbourhood.

Hey, it's taking me a while to find the right words and I'm not sure if these are the right ones, i am going to try though, cause your reply made me consider things and I wanted to put them down.

This shitpost-poem-silly words situation was primarily about gender, yes, but more than that about radical bodily autonomy and allowing yourself to participate in it, despite all the many hurdles that come with it.

Fun fact about me: I am disabled, and I do write about disability a bunch (to the modern Prometheus/I am being eaten by birds and to the snake living inside of my stomach, weird stories I'm both proud of and feel like rewriting/having a conversation with in the future) (this is the part of the paragraph where I'm having a conversation with myself, I don't expect anyone to know what those are).

This words-mess is lighthearted and didn't go into the details of the constraints of doing something with your body-home - something people are more often than not painfully aware of, but in that might have made people like me feel like this isn't for them or about them.

Sometimes the foundation sucks. Sometimes there's bugs in the walls and the pipes leak and the wood rots. Sometimes you can expect the thing to last a few decades at best, a few years at worst, and who knows how much crumbling will happen between now and then. But in the meanwhile it is my home, broken and gloriously mine, gloriously non-refundable. Sometimes getting out of bed within the 24-hours most would consider a day is easier if you get to put on silly goose boxers about it, sometimes there's joy in finding jewelry that you can wear outside of throw up blast range on bad nausea days.

There is no fixing, often. Sometimes there isn't even any stopping the cracks from spreading, but as long as it is within my ability the crumbling will be as well-furnished as it's ever going to get, and in that I find joy.

there's also the question of how you relate to the body you're in. the same building could be a temple or a home, without making major alterations -- depending on who it belongs to.

when they teach you your body is a temple, it's to tell you that it doesn't belong to you. so not only can you not get gender-affirming treatment or tattoos or other permanent alterations, but you also can't eat junk food or have sex or do drugs, because it's not your body, it's god's body and god makes the rules. and so you become alienated from your body. you live in it as though you have no right to be there.

if, on the other hand, your body belongs to you, then you're allowed to live in it how you want. and yes, that's subject to various limitations. many changes are difficult and some are impossible. many things you want come with consequences that you don't, and you have to choose whether to deny yourself now or pay for it later. but in the temple you had to deny yourself every time. in a home you do what makes you happy and complain about the subsequent repairs and it's nobody's business but your own.

Sources: Wikipedia (Angel), Wikipedia (Robot), Wikipedia (Sacredness - Holy), Wikipedia (Guardian Angel), Wikipedia (Duty), Wikipedia (Seraph), Wikipedia (Transcendence - Religion), Wikipedia (Divinity)

Stars & Silhouettesss

(5x05 "Lucky Thirteen", 5x10 "Let Them Eat Cake", 4x16 "Wilson's Heart", 5x09 "Last Resort")

if earth was a big blue ball, i’d toss it for you to chase it

i wrote a twin cinema poem about two gay soldiers in wwi

context: the two sides, read separately, are the two soldiers thinking about their futures with each other. when read together, it's a reflection of their final thoughts when they die together struck by bullets <3

Think I’m addicted to my phone

My scrolling horror show

don't ever look up what your childhood friends are up to now!!!!!!!!!! like girl you're a nuclear safety engineer. i put on matching socks today. we played tag a thousand years ago.

Yeah

source

sometimes when the words cut so deep

that the heart splits in half;

tears cannot handle the weight

and so my face slits itself

to match the pain inside

to love like a dog

ada limón, roadside attractions with the dogs of america // emily wilson, the odyssey // u.k // andrew kane, how to be a dog // mitski, i’m your man // u.k // u.k