“I think some of my ribs want to run away.
I don’t blame them. After all,
my body is a
uneven and dismay and rebellion and
nothing seems to fit in quite right. It doesn’t surprise me
that they often don’t want to
live in a place like that.
My spine is made of kindergarten rebels that don’t like
to stand in line.
They throw tantrums and they cry and they
When I fold over to touch my toes, the
mountain on my back
(it lies just west of center)
sticks out as if it
fears it’s been forgotten.
I promise it never is, but it insists every time.
The different sides of my waist
don’t get along. They seem like they should belong to
different bodies, but they’re stuck together in
My hips, bless their naïve hearts, are frozen
lopsided in a dance.
I can understand
why a few of my ribs seem to be trying to
break away from the rest.
while the rest of my body might refuse to be nice and
follow the rules, my
heart at least is where is should be, and
it beats life persistently through me no matter
how many reasons it has to stop. And I think maybe
Some of my ribs may want to run away,
but I don’t think they really mean it.”—Adriana NC | Some of My Ribs (via forscoliosis)
I hope you will be okay with the fact that I am
I hope you’ll get used to seeing different
bodies when you look at me
from different directions.
When you hold my waist and one hand has
more to grab on to,
I hope you’ll forgive me.
When you trace your fingers down my
I hope you don’t mind taking the scenic route that doesn’t go
straight from skull to hip.
I hope you don’t care that my body is too
rebellious to be even.
And I hope you don’t think that I am too
twisted to be
beautiful.”—Adriana NC | I Hope You Don’t Think What I Think (via forscoliosis)