Naked

I’ve been smothered since I left the womb.
Doctors wrapped blankets around my bloody body;
my nakedness was covered from my very first breath.

“Keep your knees together,” church ladies would say.
“Be a lady,” they’d say.
“Grow a thicker skin,” they’d say.

I did.

I covered my body with a shell
impenetrable to the stares of men
impervious to the arrows slung by friend and foe alike.

My body was safe from stolen kisses
safe from holding hands
from feeling love

or really,
anything.

Unwanted touches and soft caresses felt the same–
–that is to say, like nothing at all.

Sharp pain tethered my soul to my body.
Every cut brought the two closer,
every twist of my gut let me feel real.

I sought nakedness every place it could be found—
crop tops and slit wrists
flirtation and insult
poetry and panic.

Each line I write is a piece of my shell.
I slowly undress myself to you
hoping one day to be
fearlessly, gorgeously, blissfully naked.

Emma Florez is a junior studying professional writing at Champlain College. During her freshman year, she worked as a staff writer at the publication Chivomengro, where she had several personal essays published. Her poetry appears in Thanks Hun Zine and The Empty Magazine. In her free time, Emma likes to meditate, read tarot, go to yoga classes, do crafts, and dance like the wild spirit she is. You might find her in the Student Government office, working or chatting with friends, or curled up in bed with a good movie or TV show playing on her laptop.