through the depression.
I felt, without a body, something in agony
or maybe a body without a soul, stiff
and too heavy to pull from the bed.
Yes. An obese body, my own flesh and grief,
too heavy for my body to lift. There is no other way
to tell you I woke up afraid I was going to live.
There is no other way to say how I was overwhelmed
by the mundane things –
dishes, the shower, breakfast –
I could not be anywhere.
I ran from Saint Louis
across the rolling ground to Colorado,
where I found the mountains
could no longer offer me comfort,
to my mother’s home in Pennsylvania,
where the red wolves used to hunt and stalk,
From Chicago I ran back into my heavy tired body, to find
that where the soul had been there was now a hard river stone,
small and cold and smooth. Many suggested a hospital stay,
but what can doctors do for a stone?
I crave a body I can crawl into.
-Kait Mauro is a 21 year old photographer and poet who resides in Western Pennsylvania.
Her work can be seen on kaitmauro.com.