Enough: An IBD Poem

Enough

By Divya Mehrish from New York, USA

What if I told you the spine 

is oblong like a domino,

that the body is a memory

that loses itself and keeps

losing itself like a ripple

that echoes across a glassy

mirror of water until the sun

blinds its shrinking radius

into silence. What if I told

you that you have only been

taught the shape of your hips,

that what you see in the hum

of your reflection is not what

you are but what you could have

been. What if I told you the gut

is a planet and your torso is orbiting

a sun it cannot find. What if I told

you the human skeleton knows not 

how to forget pain, that it touches

itself gingerly, as if its entire life

has been permanently bruised. 

What if I told you reminiscence 

exists as a light year—the star 

exploded centuries ago, but from 

where you sit, its serrated frame 

flames into the swollen center 

of your fickle vision. What if I told 

you, softly, that you are enough? 

You are enough. What then?


Featured Photo by Johannes Plenio by Pexels.