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Mar 13, 2026
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My body
This is my body.
It’s a mediocre, underfunded show,
It’s a vessel trying to impress,
That polishes itself so much just to reflect everything the world deems socially acceptable.
This liver isn’t sitting idle,
It has to down shot after shot just to give me the courage to live another day.
These lungs aren’t living rent-free,
They have to consume nicotine like oxygen,
They have to replace their entire chemical structure with a pile of tar and pollution.
This brain isn’t taking up space for nothing,
It has to create scenarios, each more fictional than the last.
Your friends didn’t reply to a message for 3 minutes?
They hate you.
You’re done with them.
This stomach doesn't do nothing,
It sits there digesting all the things I refuse to accept but have to incorporate into my armor.
Why? I don’t know.
Blame the brain.
My vocal cords do nothing.
When I have to confront someone, they go into cardiorespiratory arrest and die.
About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Direction:
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Not actively editing
Comments
Rita
1 month 1 week ago
Interesting take on the body!
Interesting take on the body!
Geezer
1 month 1 week ago
I agree...
blame the brain, the ultimate boss. Sometimes, it gets confused about who is the "Boss"; after introducing addictive behavior, it doesn't set limits. I think that if you were to try and
separate the brain from the rest of the body, you could have questions and answers to and from the brain about the state of each and why it is the "Bosses" fault.
The lines: My vocal cords do nothing.
When I have to confront someone, they go into cardiorespiratory arrest and die.
You need to move them up above the lines:
Why? I don’t know.
Blame the brain. ~ Geezer.
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