"Being" by M.O. Stewart

Poetry

Photo by thom masat on Unsplash

Being

Does the body house the memories


Or are they only in the mind?


Can I have someone else’s thoughts in my own head?


A transplanted conscious warring against


The flesh of self


Perhaps reincarnation sometimes falters
Between
Two planes of existence


And here we are.


The Unbelongings


Misfit renderings
Incomplete
And made with lost reference points


File —
Data —
Not found


Original source material lost


My memories disjunct in a brain
                            Or is it my body?
Too ill


A poor formation - hollow - like a snowman
Or a scarecrow
Or some other homunculus


Even Frankenstein’s monster was in possession of more conscience and
Consistency of character
Than my volatile skin-avatar


Does my consciousness crawl bug-like through my veins, under my porcelain skin through blue
vessels like minuscule cracks beneath the surface?


Or am I all that I am, locked inside this diseased mind tethered to a muscle,
bound behind bone?

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About the Poet:

M.O. Stewart currently resides in the woods of southern New Hampshire with her husband, their three children, the family cat, and a few rabbits. If she isn’t writing, she is likely making music, crocheting, crafting perfumes, baking, watching horror, or generally getting herself into some variety of unhinged mischief.

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