Embodiment

This bedroom is my skin

reaching out 

With goosebump walls

Even blindfolded

I'd find the door

After turning left

After turning right

And the rooms around me

Exoexoexoderm

Layers of cells 

Sloughing off in winter sun

Remnants of homes

Growing thick on photoframes

How Dare I

How dare I think about my personhood

as sloughing into someone else's personhood,

think of myself as being drained

as if I'm just some finite resource to be stripped

into constituent elements, one part used for 

the day at hand one part for another,

what a poor rationale for not trusting I have

something I want to pass on rather than slouching and

giving myself all to be unwillingly taken away.