Молодец

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Afraid to fall, crashing from
way up high onto the floor.

Afraid to bruise from the metal,
from the ground, from myself.

Afraid to twist something, my
leg, my shoulder, my neck, my spine.

So many fears tucked away when told
about being too much or too little.

Too weak, too fragile, too small,
too big, too thin, too fat.

Not strong enough, not flexible
enough, not limber enough.

Too girly, too delicate, too woman.
Not rough, not muscular, not man enough.

Fears are born from younger days,
from people projecting all of theirs.

Afraid to climb, afraid to let go,
afraid to push, afraid to flip.

Afraid to split, afraid to stand on my
head, afraid to stretch a little more.

Afraid of me, afraid of my legs, afraid
of what I look like, afraid to

stare in the mirror and see legs and thighs
and arms and stomach- afraid of self.

So many fears that hid unknown, now come to
the surface, threatening asphyxiation.

“молодец!” she says and smiles, upside down.
She looks down at a girl standing on her head.

And a little piece of the soul gets
fitted back into place…

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