The only reason I know my body
is real are the bruises. Raspberry covered,
pools of blood, scales along linoleum scraped knees.
I slam into open
cupboard doors just to acquaint myself with the
plywood edges of my limbs. In a past life,
perhaps I was a lake
in which people drowned. Their bodies
lost inside my unforgiving swells.
And now I pay for it, not allowed
to walk safely in my own. Still,
new nicks, boats streaming across
the facade of my skin. Their wakes
leaving nothing but scars.
Taylor Franson-Thiel is a Pushcart nominated poet from Utah, now based in Fairfax, Virginia. She received her Master’s in creative writing from Utah State University and is pursuing an MFA at George Mason University. Her debut collection Bone Valley Hymnal is forthcoming in 2025 from ELJ Editions. She enjoys lifting heavy weights and posting reviews to Goodreads like someone is actually reading them. She can be found on Twitter @TaylorFranson and at TaylorFranson-Thiel.com