Displaced

my body is revolting against my soul

my soul is revolting against my body

my insides are under attack

and every once in a while

moments like these

I remember

the exact moment in the third grade

when the words, “internal conflict” were uttered

my eyes teary

jaw clenched

and back tensed

against that plastic blue chair

and I -

could finally give a name

to that

rumbling

crashing

aching

within

my body is revolting,

so is my soul

and I can no longer

find solace, a home

in the discomfit of my skin, or the crumbling of my bones

or the unfamiliarity of my reflection

but at a distance

amidst this chaos

I hear a roaring

a faint, gradual

rebuilding

and a crash

a rebuilding

then a crash

and a rebuilding once again