How many poems have compared love and loss
To losing limbs, to broken body parts?
Too many in this lifetime
I think at one point or another
We’ve all been guilty of this
Romanticizing our bodies
Turning tears into diamonds
Hearts into suitcases
Filled with other people’s ghosts
Turning bones into sugar that easily crumbles
Skin into tinder, sparking fire
Fingers into daggers
But how many times have we hated
Our bodies, hated even looking at it
Does the same go, then,
With looking at loss and love?