:: CURVEd

With June being scoliosis awareness month, I decided to jot down a quick poem about it. An imperfectly perfect characteristic of the body God designed just for me, it has been a part of me since I was diagnosed in middle school. Cause unknown, I lived with it through my youth. Avoiding more significant instances where corrective surgery is needed, I learned through the power of yoga, Pilates, and good posture that the pains of my spine, the pains my mom couldn't ease with just a simple kiss or hug, the pains I couldn't ease with just sleep, could be eased through exercises and better awareness to how my body was positioned. Knowing that back pain would be a life long side effect, I learned to love my curve.

Though I don't speak on it much, I know the dips, the turns, and overly used discs make me uniquely me. My spine is my trunk. And like a tree, I grow crookedly but always towards the sun.

—

CURVEd

a poem to my spine

First R I G H T

left

a small

R O U N D about

Into A . . . H H H H

dip

•

growing pains

T R E E S never grow straight

Crooked roots

the F O U N D A T I O N

still . . . S T R O N G

perfect

•

during the drive

D I S C S may scratch in overuse

But everything is E V E R Y T H I N G

all one in the S A M E

—

And just like that, I commemorate my spine and it's beautiful serpentine features. I am... and without apology. God made no mistakes.

I hope you find it in yourself to reread and share my thoughts and ramblings. Though I am not a word smith, just yet, and my eloquence is still attempting to bloom, my words, my thoughts, still hold quite a bit of meaning. Even despite my fears to share this MUCH of me, I know a part of being F R E E is overcoming the fears that keep me from F L Y I N G.

Watch me fly.

— :: Post Rationalizing(s)

"And I am aware of my heart: it opens and closes. Its bowl of red blooms out of sheer love of me.”

― Sylvia Plath —