My Body Said No

They called it growing up I called it disappearing They called it being good I called it leaving my body And for years I smiled so beautifully That even I believed me I learned to fold my hunger small And call it grace I learned to read the weather In everybody’s face I learned that love was safer When I needed less That silence made me pretty That pain looked like success Be soft But carry it all Be open, be wanted But never too raw Be mother, be lover Be clean, be wild Be ancient and modern Be woman and child Nobody asked What it cost to obey Nobody saw What I buried away But the body keeps count In the dark and below And one day it rises And whispers No My body said no Before I knew how My skin told the truth I was hiding somehow My bones had a language My breath understood I was not being difficult I was trying to be good My body said no To the role and the show To the smile on command To the shame I would hold Call me too much Call me cold if you must But I’m done turning trauma Into something you trust Some girls learn early That love has a price That hands can be gentle And still not be nice Some girls learn leaving Before they can run Some girls lose daylight Before they know sun Then we grow older And call it a mood A headache, a panic A problem with food A back that is aching A womb that won’t rest A heart overtrained To abandon its chest They name it disorder They name it disease But what if my system Was trying to freeze What if my fear Was a map, not a flaw What if my anger Was holy law I carried the room I carried the men I carried the mother Who broke me back then I carried the culture The myth and the blame Until my own body Remembered my name My body said no Before I knew how My skin told the truth I was hiding somehow My bones had a language My breath understood I was not being difficult I was trying to be good My body said no To the role and the show To the smile on command To the shame I would hold Call me too much Call me cold if you must But I’m done turning trauma Into something you trust Don’t tell me to heal So I’m easier to take Don’t call me too tense When I finally don’t break Don’t sell me a cage With a wellness perfume Don’t preach empowerment Then shrink every room Don’t call it desire When I learned to comply Don’t call it consent When I froze to survive I’m not your symbol Your saint or your sin Not your mother Your mirror Your medicine Not your goddess On a branding board Not your soft place to land When you’re bored with your war I am blood I am breath I am boundary and flame I am done being fluent In somebody’s shame I am not here to decorate Civilized lies I came back to my body With fire in my eyes I do not hate the world I refuse to disappear I do not hate this body That carried all these years I do not hate the softness I was taught to weaponize I am learning the difference Between love and disguise Maybe a woman Is not an answer to need Not a vessel for hunger Not a wound made to bleed Maybe a woman Is a weather, a ground A rhythm, a border A voice with a sound My body said no And I’m listening now My skin tells the truth I am not hiding somehow My bones have a language My breath understood I was never too broken I was trying to be good My body said no To the role and the show To the smile on command To the shame I would hold Call me too much Call me cold if you must But I’m done turning trauma Into something you trust My body said no And the no became mine A door in the dark And a boundary line Not bitter, not finished Not tame, not owned I am here in my body I am coming home No Is not the end of love Sometimes It is the first true sound The soul makes When it returns To the body