A brain in my body

Everyday I start over, everyday I give it a rest then I try my best to not think about how I’m starting and not finishing. I am not finishing anything; not thoughts, nor books or conversations; I don’t even finish a lie to myself. So I start again until I can stop and tie all loose ends, bound my boxes and pack my suitcases and try to finish my day somewhere better.
It’s all pressed to my chest, all the desires, the hopes and the fears. I have them stapled to my clothes and I am lost in the baggiest dress I have ever slipped into. I am lost below the color fades and the heated fabric. There is more yet to come and I am bound to grow back into my own skin.
I do not know how to disappear, I do not feel. I am. Once again, I am everything I attempt to be with the power I have today. Sometimes I’m big sometimes I’m small and I cannot help but changing sizes and switching sides. I cannot contain my joy and I have no limits to my fears. Where are the lids, the joints and the limbs that people talk about? I have so much composure yet I do not know where it begins and where I end. I have no recollection of poise in my mind. That is why I thank my face daily- I would have never made it this long if it weren’t for my unbelievably helpful body. It truly is my blessing. If I were to live as a brain alone I would have exploded such a long time ago into a billion and one thoughts scattered like freckles on an insecure beautiful little girl’s face.
When my day is almost gone and I look at a lost October and a past birthday I feel the gravity of my company and the sweetness of my senses as they allow me the coziness of a night fully mine and a darkness too loving and genuinely present.
It’s all happening as I write believe it or not, it’s all in my mind, the words right before I write them, and the thoughts right before I think them. I am just as aware as the second girl you meet. I do not know how to be anything else.
Every time I mistake myself for a fully understood and past project I surprise myself again and I crack a joke to ease the awkwardness of meeting a new friend, or foe for that matter.
Someday, some way, I suppose things ought to change. They always do. I always find my way, I’m sure you do too. I’m not just a brain after all, my home is my body too. And it’s exactly where I’d like to sleep.