by Traci Neal
Reclaim
This body knows brands where brutality breeds.
A process plans to split my legs like
mayo marinated on a sandwich.
Futile frustrations dress my weary drops
with destruction wallowing from my body
until it has to participate.
Trust turns into becoming a man’s
militant trash, yet somehow tragedy transforms
my tender mixed-up puzzle pieces into poetry.
After my various parts splatter, I invade words
like the male who thought threading my body on
his needle made him a hero and not a villain.
As a woman, I reflect on my poetic heart
sewing verses into souls such as mine
with a desire for answers.
Strength is a string we must agree to
and straighten out our opposition in a knot.
Open a new wardrobe
to thrive in your appearance.
Refuse to reject yourself,
but race toward renewal.
To every woman,
reclaim the body birthing
out of your yoke needing
more than a bandaid.
Reclaim joy and join hands
in the justice to choose.
Reclaim your voice
spoken by an internal
microphone shouting
louder than what society
shames you for.
Reclaim your identity.
You are a worthy treasure.