 Old Hope
I have dreamt of running free,
a marathon, a race,
A testament to the strength of my body and heart.
I have longed to dip naked in the ocean,
(the waves with more curves than mine own body)
To be unafraid of being found nude
(hoping for it)
Proud of my fine sleek physique.
I want to walk past windows, unashamed,
I want to see a form of grace,
Instead of this lumbering elephant tromping through the concrete jungle.
Will there be a day I am not judged for fighting a disease,
Too often kept quiet?
The cysts in my ovaries I picture like poison dandelions-
If only the wind would blow.
It has to be enough to be brilliant,
To create with my hands instead of my loins.
Every morning, to look in the mirror
With kind eyes,
To see the old hopes bend into new dreams.
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